Under The Hot Sun
by The Rooftop Raptor
Summary: There's something big going on in the southwestern United States, and the wishes of a cruel figure will intertwine some of Louis L'amour's greatest characters. Now they face an all out war to stop a mysterious figure from becoming the cattle "king" of the west and from taking their homes and lives. Also includes some characters of Clarence E. Mulford.
1. Prologue

When Tom Chantry rode into the town of Mora, he was on a mission.

The trouble he was in was one he could not handle alone, and he knew the man that could help. His father, the great Borden Chantry, was a man without to many friends, but Tom was sure glad he had this one. So when Tom rode to Mora he was seeking one man, Tyrel Sackett.

He himself had seen the Mora gunfighter but once or twice, and that was when Sackett and his father had saved the town against the gunfighters and outlaws of Ben Curry.

That was a long time ago, and Tome had only been a young child. Now his father was dead, shot to death by the brutal outlaws headed by Frank Ruff. That was behind him though, but he was not sorry for what happened. He lived a different life when he moved east with his mother after his father died. Spending his years as a young man there, he had returned west to buy cattle, and became attached to the land as his father and so many men had. He then married and bought a ranch of his own in New Mexico, and life seemed bright. He then successfully ran cattle for Mr. Sparrow and Mr. Earnshaw. Plus French Williams, a good friend, was never far away with his own men.

Trouble came fast however, and Tom found himself up against odds that seemed unbearable. And right now he needed Tyrel Sackett. It was not just gun trouble that he faced, but also an unsolved mystery involving his father and Tyrel Sackett. Tom knew if any man was to be consulted on this, that it was Sackett.

He found his way to the saloon, and ordered himself a beer. He quizzically glanced around the saloon, liking what he saw.

He realized how Mora was a cleaned up town. The old fiery days of shooting and fights were over here, and the community had settled down. For quite some time Sackett had been marshal here, and it showed.

Tom knew what Sackett was made of, but he was taking a gamble here. Sure Sackett knew his father, but that was long ago, and would Sackett even remember him? After all he had only been a boy then, and he himself knew Sackett very little. _No, No, No_ he thought to himself. This trouble he was facing was directly involved through Sackett, and he needed information at the least from him.

"Well" he said to himself, "it will come with time"

Tossing his drink, Tom Chantry left the saloon and headed out for the ranch of Tyrel Sackett.


	2. Chapter 1-Finding a Friend

The territory around Sacketts land was a thing to see, and Tom Chantry hoped one day to make his ranch look that nice . . . if he lived to do so.

Tom had already sent a note to Sackett informing him of the problem, but mail confusion caused it to be lost. So when Tom walked up the porch and knocked on the door, he hoped the moment would not be awkward. Much to his surprise, a lovely Mexican Woman opened the door, and he guessed it was Sacketts wife.

"Ma'am", he started, "I need t . . ."

"Ah yes" She answered, "You are Tom Chantry, please do come in, we have heard a lot about you."

When Tom walked in he walked right into Tyrel Sackett.

Sackett studied him for a minute then said, "Tom Chantry, man, it's a pleasure to see you. You sure got the look of your father."

Sackett invited him to coffee and had him sit in a wonderful room filled with books and decorations. Despite this, Tom found himself studying Sackett. The man was no longer young, but he was not old, and that Sackett look had not left him. After they were seated, Tom began to spin the problem up for Sackett.

"You see Mr. Sackett", Tom said, "I was starting my own ranch with my wife, and life looked good. I had had trouble before that, what with the cattle drive, the gold, and the return of Frank Ruff and Harvey."

"They're the ones who shot your pa and killed him right?" Tyrel asked.

"Yes," Tom answered.

"I'm real sorry about that son, he one was one heck of a man. One of the best I ever knew. That there was a man, and I could never thank him enough for helping solve the murder, and then of course with the Ben Curry gang." Sackett Replied.

"Yeah," Chantry replied, "It was a different life for me after he died."

"You moved east?" Sackett asked.

"Yes and a lot it did for me." Ending on that note, Chantry got back to the problem.

"So I was ranching and all, and I did not have any more enemies, but that changed mighty fast. I began hiring hands, a right now I got about five. I had seven, but we lost two when the trouble began.

"Trouble started when we found a hand, Joe Steiner, shot in the back with a short range. At first we thought it was Indians, but when we saw the tracks leaving from the scene, and they were the tracks of a fine horse, I'm guessing a mare, and it wasn't a shod pony, which is what all the Indians near us ride. Then we knew it was murdered. Why . . . we still don't know. After that we were on sharp watch. After a long time nothing happened, then I sent another hand out, Pete Riser. Well he went out, and after a day he didn't come back. He too got shot in the back, and we found the same tracks leaving the scene. Now I am sure that it was a fine mare, and we knew that someone was after us. It was then I realized that both Steiner and Riser were wearing buckskin jackets that I had let them use. Both Steiner and Riser had no known enemies, but the fact that they were shot while wearing my cloths was no accident.

"So the next time I rode then range, I kept an eye out , and sure enough, I found an unknown fire on our range I approached it and heard them talking.

"'I thought we got him', One had said.

"'No', another said, 'He is still around, and you shot the wrong man Price! I know Chantry, and he is surely smart and he will catch on sooner than later. I want him dead before he can find out! You hear me?!'

"'Alright Ruff, just calm down. The boss wants a clean job with him, and if we don't do it, there's is always Mike Monson or Queen. We'll get 'im, one way or another!'

"Know I knew the name of Ruff Mr. Sackett, for Frank Ruff I had killed back in that cattle drive away back. So when I looked at one of them again, I saw it was Charley Ruff. Now I had whupped him some time back, and I had killed his pa, so I am guessing he was after revenge. So I just stepped out then and surprised them, for there were three in the group, Ruff and two other I did not know.

"'Howdy boys!' I said, 'You seem to be on the wrong range, for this is Lazy G range, and I am Tom Chantry, owner of the Lazy G.'

"They just stared, and I could see Charley Ruff getting mad clear through. The others I did not now, but they were tough men, and one of them was looking me over with a deadly hatred in his eyes.

"'Charley Ruff, my I have not seen you in a while,' I said.

"Charley glared at me and said, 'Look Chantry, you're outnumbered and we got an edge, three to one. We got one big reward for killing you, but this I would have done just for the heck of it. You whupped me Chantry, and you killed my pa. So I'm going to kill you, but I'll enjoy getting some of my own back first! Drop that gun!'

"Well, I just dropped my gun, and he came at me. We had us a good long fight, and we were not disturbed. In the end though I beat him down, and the other two raised their guns. I was defenseless, but at that time my riders came over the ledge and down to the fire. We had five rifles on their two, and they became cornered.

"'Alright,' I said, 'you boys just fess up. I know you killed my boys Steiner and Riser, so you come with me and you just might beat such a case in court, but you'll probably just get a hangin!

"One of them went for his gun, and we had to shoot both men dead. In all of the confusion, Ruff escaped, but I walked over to one of the outlaws, one who was dying.

"'Who wants me dead?!' I asked.

"'Don't know . . . I was just paid to kill you, so was Mack over there . . . You better run while you can Chantry, for your . . . you're in some real trouble . . . Denny Dinsmore want's you dead, so does Mike Monson, Charley Ruff, Darrel Queen, and the boss . . .'

"He died like that, and I was fresh out of clues," Chantry finished.

"You say Mike Monson?" Sackett asked.

"Uh-huh, I was getting to that Mr. Sackett. I know you helped my father with the Ben Curry case, when they raided our home town right?" Chantry asked

"Yup, that was when some of his boy's came to his town, and I lend him a hand. We had us a fight there, and we dusted off them boy's. You say Mike Monson? One of the outlaws from the Ben Curry gang was named Monson." Sackett answered.

"That's what I mean Mr. Sackett. I don't know if it has a direct conflict to it, but I think the old Ben curry outlaws have something to do with it. After that fight with Charley Ruff I went to town, asking around about the group, and sure enough, a man approached me saying to leave them alone. I asked him if he was with them and he did not answer, he just said, 'You watch yourself kid, for Borden Chantry had enemies, and I reckon some are still around, you just watch yourself for Denny Dismore and Darrel Queen.''

"Denny Dinsmore . . . the name rings a bell, I believe we arrested him after he and the gang attacked the town . . . he was supposed to go to jail for 20 years, but he must have eventually broke jail."

"Mr. Sackett, I still am very confused on what is happening here. This is no ordinary ranch trouble that I am facing, and right now I am trying to put it all together. I came here to find out more on the Ben Curry case, because I believe that it has something to do with my trouble. Did you do anything on the Ben Curry case after the shootout in the town?"

"If I 'member correctly, I had a drink with your Pa and some others. We had two prisoners to take in, one I am sure was Denny Dismore, and he was scared of jail. He started blabbering his mouth loose on how the Ben Curry gang was fallin apart, and then he talked about Kerb Perrin or Rigger Molina would take over, and then he talked about Mike Bastian, and said he was Ben Curry's son. Well, I thought of looking for Curry but to be honest, I heard that the gang was done and I didn't want to go coon hunting any longer for him, so I dropped it. Now Molina and Perrin are dead, so the only link I think we have left is Mike Bastian or Ben Curry himself." Sackett answered.

Tom got up then, and said "Thank you Mr. Sackett, I will not trouble you anymore." It was then that he realized how late it was, and he had no place to spend the night.

"Stay here," Sackett said, "There is plenty of room, and you are always welcome."

So when morning came to Mora Chantry was up early, and he knew where he was headed, and that was wherever Bastian or Curry was. He was surprised however, to see that his horse was already saddled, and so was a horse next to it.

Tyrel Sackett came out then, dusting off his cloths. He was dressed to ride.

"What's the getup for?" Chantry asked, "you commin along?"

"You didn't think I let you go alone did you? No sir your father helped me when I needed it and I shall return the favor by helping you. Besides, Borden was a good friend of mine, and I help my friends"

Chantry smiled. Now this man was a friend worth having!


	3. Chapter 2-An Ambush

While Tyrel Sackett and Tom Chantry made there trail north to find Mike Bastian and Ben Curry, Chick Bowdrie leaned back against his chair on his ranch. Dozing in the warm Texas sun, he woke as a bird gave a loud call from some trees. Bowdrie looked over the ranch, and seeing it, could not be more proud. Who have ever thought that he would get this far, after coming from what he did? He remembered his young childhood, and how the rangers had taken him in before he turned an outlaw. Under McNelly's supervision, Bowdrie became the best Texas Ranger around, challenging the most dangerous men and solving the most deadly mysteries and crimes. He had fought the best of them and dealt with the worst of them, and now he came out with his own ranch, and he was proud of it. He had spent countless hours around all of Texas, and he knew the country better than most.

But his days of being a ranger were behind him. He had spent part of his life helping those in need, and he was glad to say he did. But now he could relax, relax and enjoy his ranch.

He watched quietly as a big steer chomped on some grass with a smaller calf behind it. Elsewhere, a horse whined as another ran across the range. Bowdrie closed his eyes again, and he fell back to sleep. He was just about to close his eyes when he saw the glint of the rifle barrel.

There was no time to think, only to act, and Bowdrie threw himself to the ground just as the bullet ripped by his head. Hitting the ground hard, he scrambled for the door, and he just made it inside when another bullet struck near his foot. Closing the door behind him, he knelt beside the log pile by the door, knowing that if the steel bucket wasn't enough to stop the bullet, then the heavy logs of oak and pine would.

The pile was right next to the window, but he dared not look out of it yet, for the killer might still be watching it. He quickly picked up the rifle he had by the doorjamb, and then he waited.

Why was he getting shot at?! What did this have to do with anything? Could he be the target of someone? _Who?_ He had no enemies he knew of, not since he left the Rangers . . . _The Rangers_! That would probably be it, for in his Ranger days there were always enemies, but who would do it? There were far too many to figure out now.

Bowdrie stood quiet, waiting for another shot. None came, and he stood frozen in his position. Slowly the day passed by. Bowdrie realized the killer might have moved closer to the house, so taking a chance, he put his hat up to the window, but there was no shot. Waiting a few more minutes he then peered outside the window, and again there was no shot.

Was the killer still there? He had no way of knowing, so he gingerly opened the door and tossed out a small chunk of wood, and as it hit the ground a bullet nailed it to the floor.

So the killer was still there, and judging by how far the rifle carried, he was much closer to the ranch house now than before. Chick realized that there was one chance of escape, and that was through the back door of the house. There could be more than one killer, but he had only heard shots from the same one rifle. It was taking a gamble, but he took thousands of gambles as a Ranger, so this was nothing new.

Running to the back door, he quietly exited, and went to the side of the house, and he went behind the big tree next to it. Now he waited for the killer. Taking a small rock, he again threw it toward the door, but the killer must have learned that was a trap so no shot came. Again Bowdrie waited, and then after a long while it was getting dark.

It was then Bowdrie heard a rustle in the bushes, and he heard footsteps. Then a dark figure appeared outside of the house, close to the brush. Bowdrie waited, and then the man crawled to the door. As he did, Bowdrie raised his Winchester and shot at him. The man gave a gruntled scream, and then took off for the brush. Breaking from the tree Bowdrie followed, and soon he was after the killer. But when Bowdrie made it to the brush, the killer was gone, and it was getting too dark to see the tracks.

Bowdrie walked back to the ranch house, and he tried to put things together. He had been shot at for an unknown reason, and from what he knew, he had no enemies, and he should not have any, unless if it was an outlaw he had brought to justice as a Ranger after revenge. Thinking it over, he went back into the ranch house.

"Well", he said aloud to no one, "I got the ranch to myself, the boys are out on a cattle deal, and I'm a good three miles from town, and my friends are probably at their own ranches, and the killers would not be back tonight. I just figure it out in the morning."

Never being a trusting man, Bowdrie slept with his gun by his side, and he should have, because soon he would need it to save his life.


	4. Chapter 3-Some Friends and Some Enemies

Tom Chantry and Tyrel Sackett stopped on the outskirts of Mora, and Tyrel drew up.

"Be just a minute Tom," Sackett said, "Got me a friend to see"

Tom held then reins as Tyrel came out with a thin old man, one who had seen many trails.

Sackett pointed to the old man, and said "Tom this here is Cap Rountree, and he may look old but he has a lot of trails behind him, and he is a good man to have along. He is a good friend of mine"

Rountree sized Tom up, and he looked him over good.

"The son of Borden Chantry," he said "And he sure does have the look"

So that was how it began, and together they made dust up from Mora to upper New Mexico. They stopped along the way, asking around questions, and hoping to get answers. For days they rode the trails, and together they shared meals by the fire in open country. They hit the boom towns and the quiet towns, met gunfighters, lawmen, gamblers, ranchers, miners, and cowboys.

They asked but got no answers, until they reached an area called Toadstool Canyon, and the small town below it. It was then that they entered the saloon, and again asked around about Curry and Bastian, one man said, "They're around alright, but you best not bring up it around them, that Bastian is one heck of a fighter."

"Not huntin trouble," Rountree said "We just need information. Chantry and Sackett here need anwsers"

"Chantry?! Sackett?! While I'll be durned, it been a coons age!"

The man looked up then, and Sackett and Chantry were shocked to see that it was Kim Baca.

"Kim Baca! Of all people," Sackett said, "Boy it's been years. What're you doing around here?"

"Well, after letting go of my sheriff job back in town, I hunted jobs over the area. So I eventually ended up here, and I still have not found a job." Baca turned to Chantry then, and said, "Howdy there Tom, my you have out on some weight. You sure are your father's kid."

While Sackett and Rountree talked to Baca, Tom found himself watching Baca with respect. He had come far, for he was a horse thief before he was arrested by Borden Chantry. Chantry had put his trust in Baca, and he made him his deputy. Since then, Baca became a well-liked and respected man. Chantry then recalled the last time he saw Baca, in that time long ago.

Tom Chantry looked at his home town for the last time. His mother was getting the wagon ready, and he looked back on his home ranch, and he was sad to leave it. His mother was eager to be away, and she had always been urging his father to move back east, so he, Tom Chantry, could be away from all the shooting and violence. His father had argued that he would find no job east. So when he died, his mother wanted him away from the west immediately.

So while she was packing up, Tom was saying his goodbyes. The whole town was there, for Borden had been a friend of all of them, and they all knew Tom. Hyatt Johnson, the bank owner was there, and so was George Blazer, Mary-Ann Healy-the town courtesan, and also there was Prissy from the post office, and Kim Baca. One by one Tom gave a personal goodbye, and when he came to Kim Baca, he took a long stare at them.

"I sorry to see you go Tom," Baca said "You're sure gonna be missed. If you should ever be back here west and need help with anything, you just look me up, and I'll come runnin!"

The last person Tom saw was Billy McCoy, and he would miss him. McCoy was a young boy his age, and had been Tom's playmate ever since Billy's father died after being shot in the back. Since then, Tom and Billy were the only friends the other had. So Billy looked him straight in the eye, and Billy patted young Tom on the back saying.

"Your commin back soon right?" Billy asked

"I hope to. See ya Billy, maybe I'll meet you again."

"You ever need me you just look around, for I'll be the best hand in the country!"

Tom hopped into the buckboard, and then they took off east.

Slowly he then turned to Sackett, Rountree, and Baca.

"You huntin a job here Baca?" Tom asked

"Yeah, me and my partner"

"Partner?" Tom asked.

"He means me Tom", a voice said.

Tom turned his head then, and facing him was none other than Billy McCoy, and he had the look of a top Cowhand.

"Billy McCoy," Tom said "You sure were right when you said you would be a hand"

"'s one of the only things I know Tom. What are you up to these days? Thought that you went east"

"I came back," Tom Said "An I got myself a ranch and a wife"

McCoy grinned at that and said, "That would be like you Tom, settl'in down an gettin a wife! Guess that's what the East does to ya!"

"Ah shut up!" Tom replied laughing.

They all got down to the point then, and Baca and McCoy were hunting jobs. They knew little about Curry and Bastian, only that Bastian was a respected rancher and deadly with a gun. Seeing nowhere else to go, Baca and McCoy tagged along, and that night they all spent in Toadstool Canyon.

Sackett had started a fire, and McCoy fixed up dinner. Rountree was lighting a smoke, and Baca was letting the horses get water. Tom Chantry sat up against a rock, considering the trouble he was facing, and, thinking it over, there was nothing he liked about the situation at all.

His ranch had been attacked, and he had lost some good hands. He knew Charley Ruff was involved, and the man was dangerous and packing a grudge. He also knew that Mike Monson and Denny Dismore were linked to the Ben Curry outlaws, and as for Darrel Queen . . . well, he did not know the name, or where he fit in. What he did know is that all of them were gunmen, and there were more of them. Why was he being attacked? He had trouble with no one, and none of the cattle had been rustled yet . . . _Cattle!_

It seemed to snap in Chantry's brain. He had some 5,000 stock on his range alone, not to mention the ranchers in his area. Besides Tom there were seven others-French Williams, Pete Ferrell, Timothy Gentile, Mark Brosher, Noble Hughes, and Sam Tucker. Together all those Cattle would make a huge sweep, and that might be the key.

Tom explained his theory to the others. They all seemed to agree, and then they slept on it. It was past midnight and cicadas sang, but Tom Chantry was woken up by something else. He heard the footsteps, and he dove for the bush, and instantly Rountree woke the others up and they spread out.

"Cap," Tom whispered, "You here that? Know who it is?"

"Ain't got me a clue son" Rountree replied.

They then heard the voices.

"Were did they go?! Durn it we gotta find them!"

"Quiet now," a voice said, "He wants this done quietly."

"Heck, for six hundred dollars I'd do worse."

Tom carefully listened to the men. He could make out three shadows, but there could have been more. Looking over to his side he saw that Rountree was gone, as were the others. They were all hidden he knew, but how many faced them?

"They ain't here!" One of them said.

Tom turned then to see McCoy in the bushes with a Winchester in his hands, and not too far off, Rountree had a Sharps .50 in his hands. Baca, crouched between two tall trees, had his six-shooter drawn, and Sackett had his two pistols in his hands not far away. Tom Himself had a shotgun with him, and he had a Colt in his holster.

"You let 'em git away!" One of them said.

"Don't you be blammin me," another snarled back, "I was . . ."

"Looking for me gentlemen?" Tom asked.

Then the night roared with gunfire, and Chantry saw eight figures fire at the brush. He let go with the shotgun, and two men went down with a scream that makes a man shiver. Rountree's big Sharps cut into another, and Sackett, McCoy, and Baca were firing.

Tom felt something hit his shoulder, and he saw Baca take a bullet, and McCoy fell, but not from being shot. Switching to his Colt, Chantry hit another man, and that man took off running away. Then another man fell and the rest scattered away. Sackett fired after the men while Tom went to Baca.

"You hit hard?" Chantry asked.

Baca struggled to get up, but he said, "More 'er less it's a flesh wound. I might be sore, but I'll be up in the saddle and ready!"

Chantry inspected the three dead men, and brought them to the firelight. He knew none of them, but when Baca saw one of them he came in for a closer look.

"Know him," Baca said, "That's Clear Porgin, a rustler and a murderer. He used to work for Kent Gillins and his outlaw gang."

Tom stared at the bodies. He had heard of Clear Porgin, and when he was involved, that usually meant Kent Gillins was in it two. He looked at the bodies again, and then he recognized something about one of them. He had seen the face before, a long time ago, back when he was a kid. Where . . . then it hit him. It was Marden Sorrel; an outlaw from Sonora who his father had brought to justice with the help of a U.S. Marshall named Ben Cownan.

Tom tried to put it together. Charley Ruff, Mike Monson, Denny Dismore, Darrel Queen, Clear Porgin, and Marden Sorrel. What did they all have in common? Then he knew. They all had grudges against two men, and those men were Tyrel Sackett, and his father Borden Chantry. And with Borden dead, Tom and Sackett were primary targets.


	5. Chapter 4-Finding Mystery and Murder

When Chick Bowdrie awoke in the morning, it was done so by his men returning to the ranch. Tyler Boval came first, then Red Parcel, Zane Roper, Chuck Lenard, Jay Hardy, Rock Kitner, and Fred Ferdell. As they rode into the yard, they saw the bullet holes in the door.

"Trouble, Mr. Bowdrie?" Roper asked.

"Yeah," Bowdrie said, "Got shot at for no reason. Where the other boys?"

"Back in town, Mr. Bowdrie," Kitner said, "They slept off their drinks in the livery stable"

"Well," Bowdrie said, "I'm go'in back to town, but I need answers. Any of you fellas want to jump work to go to town with me?"

"Suits me boss" Boval said

"Same for me" Lenard said

"All right, I'll take Boval and Lenard and go find the rest of the boys. The rest of you, you all go find those Cattle by those waterholes we found two days ago. Make sure that you get the young stuff, but you all stay clear off the mossy horn bull, Bruiser. Also if you happened to find that gelding lost by Mercury Sinner, then you just hold it in the corral until he gets back. Oh . . . one more thing. If you find tracks of an unknown horse or any sign of the ambusher, let me know."

Bowdrie let his Roan up to the streets of Apache Creek. The town was birthed not five years before, when an old miner, Rusty Blake, stumbled on to lost gold in Apache territory. Building a saloon with the gold he had, he soon got customers from all over. Mexican outlaws crossing the border frequently when there for drinks, as did drunken cowboys and rustlers.

In short, it was a hangout for bad men, and then a wagon train rolled into the small settlement. Headed west for Arizona, the train had lost its course, and somehow the train ended up in far south Texas. While most disproved of the town and wanted to be away quickly, one man, Emit Jones, stayed and opened a general store.

Rusty disproved at first, but the store made the town larger, and as founding citizen he got ten percent of all of Jones profit. From there a hotel went up, then another saloon. Soon a blacksmith shop, five restaurants, a livery stable, a bank, and a gambling house were built, and the citizens had hopes of a theater coming.

Though the town had been alive for five years, there were as many bad men in town as good men. So when Bowdrie came to town with Boval and Lenard, he was on alert. Someone had shot at him, and he might find information in town. He first wanted to know where the rest of his hands were, so he went in to the Star Saloon, owned by Rusty himself. Bowdrie strolled up to the bar, while Boval and Lenard found a table next to a poker game.

"Howdy Rusty" Bowdrie said.

A stocky man with thick arms and a massive beard turned toward Bowdrie.

"Well, Mr. Bowdrie," Rusty said, "How ya been? What's fur ya?"

"Information," Bowdrie said, "Where are the rest of my boys?"

Rusty chuckled. "They had them some drinks, and boy were they drunk. They durned cleaned out my rye and whiskey, and it sure cost them. Then they fell asleep in hear, and that made me mad, 'cause you know how much I hate drunks sleepin in here. I woke 'em up and sent 'em out, and I guess they slept in the stable."

Bowdrie then motioned to Boval and Lenard, and said, "Can you fetch them?"

They nodded then left. He glumly reflected over his boys in the stable-Kurt Plaster, Henry Bates, and Troy Herring. All three were good hands, but all loved alcohol too much, and they were known to cause trouble. He thought about firing them, but with all the cattle he had, and with this being the dry season, he needed all the help he could get.

Rusty leaned over the bar toward him then and said, 'Bye the way, something I've been meaning to talk to you 'bout. Boval bought drinks for everyone last night, and that was an awful lot. He paid for it all with fresh silver coins, and that would not mean much too many, but it did to me.

"There was a bank robbery in a small town outside of El Paso, and four men robbed some four hundred thousand in brand new silver dollars. The robbers were masked, but one of the men seemed to have a similar figure to Boval."

"You sayin that Boval is a bank robber?" Bowdrie asked with a hint of suspense, for Boval was a good hand and one that Bowdrie liked.

"Ain't accusin anyone," Rusty said, "just wonderin is all. They came in here late, around seven o'clock for drinks. Before that I think they were in the gambling house."

Crossing over to the gambling house, Bowdrie turned to meet Clyde Tensleep.

"My boy's in here last night Clyde?" Bowdrie asked

"In hear from early afternoon, 'an left before seven O'clock. They were all here the whole time . . . well, come to think about it, Boval gave gambling money to the group, and then he left with Lenard and Plaster, and they did not show up until right before the others left, and that was right about the time it got dark."

Chick Bowdrie's jaw hung wide open, and then he turned and rushed out of the gambling house. On the street he ran into Boval and Lenard.

"Bowdrie!," Boval yelled, "We found Plaster, Bates and Herring! They all were knifed to death!"

Bowdrie followed them to the stable, and sure enough, all three were dead on the ground, with several knife cuts in the body, and each one had taken a stab right through the brain, just to be sure they were dead. Bowdrie turned to Boval and Lenard.

"You found them first?" Bowdrie asked

"Uh-huh," Lenard said worriedly, "They were all here dead in the stable when we came"

"Better report this to sheriff Maynard" Boval said.

Both Boval and Lenard were out on the street, headed for the sheriff, but Bowdri called out behind them to stop.

"You two stay right where you are, now you are both hindin something, and I believe I know what it is. Boval, you robbed that bank near El Paso three weeks ago, and you did it when I was out on a cattle deal, thinking I would never know.

"Now I am no Ranger anymore Boval but I do not want some robber on my ranch, but it did not end there. You robbed that bank with Plaster and Lenard didn't you! Then you feared that I might find out, and with me once being a ranger, you were scared of getting caught, so you two left the rest of the group with the stolen money for gambling, knowing if they were caught with it they would be arrested.

"Then the three of you went to the ranch, and one of you hunted me that day, but what the other two were doing, I do not know. But Bates and Herring must have figured it out, and for some reason you killed Plaster with them to keep your secret."

"What! _What!_ Why would we do it, and you have no proof!" Boval shouted.

Just then Parcel, Roper, and Hardy raced into the street, their horses almost out of breath.

"Mr. Bowdrie!," Parcel shouted, "Those tracks we found were from Boval's horse. They were almost wiped out, but I know his horse anywhere. We searched even farther back, and we found the gelding and some 600 head in secret pen back in that desert stretch by an unknown waterhole.

"We found extry horses stabled there, and they belonged to Lenard and Plaster."

Boval and Lenard's faces were white with fear and shock, and they both went for their guns. Bowdrie let go with his Colt, and from behind him Parcel and Roper fired with rifles, and Hardy with his six-shooter. Boval and Hardy crumpled into the dust, both instantly dead.

Shaking his head, Bowdrie examined the dead bodies, and he drew something out of Bovals pocket. It was addressed to Boval and Lenard, and read,

_You have done well with rounding up Bowdries stock. For that, you pay will increase. With the success of the last bank job, I am preparing another. For that, Darrel Queen along with Denny Dismore, will fill you in. As for driving off the stock, keep on that trail to Sonora as we planned. Be watchful though of a rancher down there named Ben Cownan, an ex U.S. Marshall who may catching on to our plan. Also be noted of the Apaches in this territory, and use caution. Do not let this message out to anyone, least of all any other of Bowdries hands. As we speak I have several men on the other ranches throughout Texas and into New Mexico. After you have finished with a few more drives, I want you both to quit and head for a ranch called the Empty, owned by the Talon family. That will be discussed further._

Bowdrie simply stared at the message for a long time, unwilling to believe what he saw. This was big, very big, and not only he was in danger, but so was probably every rancher though out Texas and New Mexico.


	6. Chapter 5-The Men with the Answers

Morning hung high in Toadstool canyon as the small party of riders drew up next to the ranch of Mike Bastian. A few hands watched as the riders drew up, and as they walked up to the door it opened and I fine looking woman stood in it.

"Ma'am," Chantry asked, "Were here to see Mike Bastian."

She called and Mike Bastian stepped through the door, and he was a fine looking man.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"Yeah, we would like a talk, for there are some things we think you can help us with." Sackett answered.

Bastian stepped out on the porch and then said, "Will talk it over breakfast, for no man was turned away from this ranch without a good meal."

The ranch house was sprawled with all kinds of decorations, from Indian rugs, to a pair of deer horns, and to a big rocking chair next to the fire. As they entered, hey noticed a huge table set for breakfast, and hands were coming in fast.

When they were all seated, Bastian left and came back with an old man, an old man who was no longer young but still had fight in him. When they were seated, Bastian brought up the question.

"What are you here for, and how can I help you?" Bastian asked.

"You can tell us about being in the Ben Curry gang." Chantry answered.

The room instantly became quiet, and one could have heard a feather drop. Bastian's face and the old man's turned death white, and Sackett noticed Bastian's hand by his gun.

"The old man looked again at Chantry and said worriedly, "You look familiar….have I seen you before."

"Not me," Tom responded, "But you met my father once. My name is Tom Chantry, Borden Chantry was my father. This man next to me is Tyrel Sackett, and further over is Cap Rountree, Kim Baca, and Billy McCoy."

If the faces of Bastian and the old man had been white before, they were even whiter now. For Borden Chantry and Tyrel Sackett had caught on to the schemes of Ben Curry once before, and they had taken out some of his toughest men.

"You'll be Ben Curry," Rountree said, indicating the old man, "You didn't forget me did you Curry. You went by Regan then. We got caught up in that buffalo fight near Sax Springs with Mitch Downright and Slim Hill."

Bastian was shocked, but was also ready, and he could take trouble. He was about to speak when Tom quickly interrupted.

"We want no trouble, and we are not here to take anyone in. We have had some trouble, and we thought you may have the answers. We want nothing to do with the Ben Curry gang, but we need information." Chantry said.

"What do you need?" Bastian asked, less worriedly now.

"I have a ranch in New Mexico, and everything has been going fine until recently. Soon my ranch was under attack, and the names of Darrel Queen, Mike Monson, and Denny Dinsmore were mentioned, and I was having rustled cattle and murders happening on my ranch. My trouble somehow seems to be linked to the Ben Curry gang." Chantry answered.

"What we really need to know is what became of the Ben Curry gang after it broke up, and what connection it might have to Chantry." Sackett said

Bastian and Curry studied it for a moment, and Bastian's looked worried. Then Curry said, "After your father and Sackett took out the bank robbery and half of my men tried to overthrow me, I called it quits. Some of the men still worked for me, but most split.

"It was after I broke the gang that a small group of twenty tried to make a new one. They tried one bank job, but it was so ill planed that three were killed, twelve arrested, and the rest were wounded heavily or ran to the hills without a cent of the money.

"After this we started ranching, and things were fine until Mike Monson came to the ranch with some twelve rough looking men."

"They were all set to do trouble," Bastian said, "And I recognized some of them-Denny Dinsmore, Rory Derk, and Elisha Ford. All of them were members of the old gang, and Mike Monson was leading them. Mike had a special hatred for us because he thinks that his brother should have taken over. But Monson was there for another reason.

"He said that we had a week to get off the range, and he said that we were traipsing on another man's land. He then showed us a land grant that forces us off of it. We originally had claim to the land from the government, but that somehow changed, and we didn't know how.

"We told them as much, and that we had entitlement to the land and we would fight for it. So they turned away, but there would be no quit in Monson, nor Dismore or the tall man with sandy red hair and the tattoo on his arm."

"Descriptions match's Darrel Queen" McCoy said.

"Then trouble abounded all over. Cattle were stolen, raid on the ranch occurred, hands were shot at, and we had a sheriff's posse come here blaming us for murder. Were sure it's Monson and those boys but we cannot prove it."

"Seems your havin similar troubles to me." Chantry said.

"You think there both connected?" Baca asked

"Yeah . . . maybe. Bastian, do you know men by the name of Ruff?"

"Sure do, why he . . . come to think of it, that Charley Ruff was with Monson and them."

"Bastian," Chantry said, "I think our troubles are linked. It seems that we are both under fire from the same source. I have no idea why I am being attacked, but it seems that whatever the reason, you are also under attack."

"Stick around Chantry," Bastian said, "We might have some trouble on our hands here. Your welcome to stay the day if you need. Looks like a storm coming up."

Indeed a storm was coming, but there was more trouble than just that. Just a mile from the ranch, a large group of men led by Darrel Queen, Dismore, and Monson were close to a hidden fire in the trees.

Dismore, Dunkin, Park, and Sting were by the fire. Monson was working at a cigar, and Queen was carefully studying the trail. The others were with the horses. Darrel Queen looked back at the camp, and even though they were his men, he looked at them with some disgust.

Darrel Queen had the reputation of a deadly man with any weapon, and none of it was false. He had grown up with a gun and a knife, and he knew how to use them. Although Sometimes called an outlaw, and in some ways he was, he was much different than others. Darrel was a different breed in that manner. He had never robbed a bank, but he did rustle cattle and steal horses. His word was as good as the money he was paid, and he was as stealthy as he was fast and accurate with a pistol.

He never committed crimes on women or children, but he had killed several men, some in cold-blood, and others in straight-up fights. Several men had drawn on him, and several times he drew on men. No one had beaten him yet, but he let none of this get to his head. He was always cold and calculating, and ready to shoot wherever and whenever.

Known at times as a dark man, he also knew how to be cheerful. To those who did not know him, he was a handsome man with a great smile who occasionally looked for a good time. This won him some friends, but he was all business when he had a job. He was as good as the money was, and he had proven it in many different times.

This job at first seemed like any other, but he soon got a liking for this one. He had no idea who his employer was, but he knew the men he was connected to. All he knew was that his employer was planning something huge, and it would take an army to do it. The man was cruel, but already had some money and power, and, from what Queen understood, was a crude and smart man.

But for Queen, this one was not only for the money, but also for revenge. Their plan was simple but would be effective-Clean out all the major ranches in the New Mexico, South-Western Texas, and upper Mexico territory. How? Simple, many of these ranches bought cattle from one single man-A.J. Tuttle, that was their ace in the hole.

But Darrel was informed that one of the men who bought cattle from Tuttle was Chick Bowdrie, and, while Queen carried few hatred's, he carried a special one for Bowdrie. The reason was simple, and Queen wanted Bowdrie's dead.

It all started when His brother Damon was arrested by Bowdire and was going to be sentenced to a long period, possibly life, in prison. In retaliation, Darrel's other brother John, had kidnapped the daughter of one of Damon's accusers, and he and his men left Texas, out of the territory of the rangers and Chick Bowdrie.

But Bowdries faked for an outlaw, and was able to infiltrate the base. Then, and the details were very vague to Darrel from this point on, Bawdries freed the girl, killed off a lot of John's gang, and even defeated John himself. Darrel never found out what happened to him, and no one gave him the answers. And Damon was sentenced to a long term in jail, and by the time word reached Darrel he was too late. His brother, trapped and hopeless of rescue, got into a fight with another inmate and died in the deadly brawl.

Angered by the death of one of his brothers and the disappearance of another, Darrel began to hate Bowdrie, the one man who seemed to be partially responsible for the death and disappearance.

So when he was offered money for the job he took it, not only for the money but for revenge, revenge and glory for killing the great Chick Bowdrie. As the plan further developed, he soon found the names of Chantry, Sackett, French Williams, Ben Cownan, and the MT ranch. All were huge and important names, and Darrel's reputation could grow quickly.

It was the chance of the lifetime, and Darrel was not about to miss it. He was going to take the steer by the horns, and he was going to get the better of it. There current orders were to attack the ranch of Bastian and Curry, but he had noticed the strange riders who entered the house, but he could not make them out. But he did not care, he was playing to win, and he would win.

"Storm drawling close." Someone said.

"We'll use it to our advantage," Monson said, "Take 'em by surprise."

"Alright men," Queen said, "_Move!_"


	7. Chapter 6-Trouble Hits Sonora

Ben Cownan looked oddly about the ranch, and he liked what he saw, but he was somewhat displeased with everything. He, like most people in this area, was having ranch troubles recently, but he was suspecting more.

Although he was now a rancher, he was once a U.S. Marshall, and those important years taught him many things, and one of those things was that at times everything is now what it seems. At this time, he was having fewer water holes, less fresh grass and a low reproduction rate. But moreover than that, he was being rustled. He noticed some of his cows were missing, so he sent out hands to inspect the ranch. There were no tracks, so the rustlers knew what they were doing. This was not good, for Cownan's ranch was constantly checked, and it would take a careful man to rustle his cattle.

Stumped on the whole situation, and he and two hands, Ricardo and Miguel, headed for town. Sonora was a great frontier city in those days, and the population there was booming, and the saloons were full. While most people in the saloons were Mexican cowhands, some were Americans spending up money, and it was some of these that Ben ran into in one of the saloons.

Pablo, the bartender, noticed Cownan and greeted him, for Cownan was one of the most respected ranchers in the area, and a friend to many.

"Senior Cownan, how are you my friend?" Pablo asked.

"Could be better Pablo, I think I'm being rustled." Cownan answered.

"You are kidding no? That it terrible, but you're not the only one. Don Pedro and Don Lopez have had the same trouble. They are losing cattle by the barrel head, and they cannot figure out how." Pablo said.

Cownan studied that then asked, "How long has this been going on?"

"About a month now and it bothers them both heavily, buy you know Lopez 'eh. That senior wants to be the best cattle man not only in Sonora but all of Mexico."

One of the white cowhands spoke up then.

"He won't get that title, not unless he hurries hisself a cattle empire real fast."

"_What?_" Pablo asked.

"Jasper Kodiak already is gaining that reputation. He and his foreman Rick Scalper, they have over 14,000 cattle all over the Texas-New Mexico area, and he is fast gaining land from the other Ranches" The cowhand answered.

"Never heard of them," Cownan asked.

"How did this man acquire all that land?" Pablo asked.

"The local ranchers seemed to be having troubles of their own, and they were doing terribly in the market. Kodiak, he's from the East, and with him he brought the things that the ranchers needed. He promised them food, water, and a new life for their ranches, and most of them went along with it.

"Right now he has one of the biggest cattle empires the world has ever seen, and the local ranchers have given over the ranches to them."

"What troubles were the local ranchers having?" Cownan asked.

"Drought, food shortages, but mostly bad markets and rustling. They could not sell to anyone, because all of the local buyers were buying the cattle of the newcomers from the east, mostly Kodiak. They had fewer cattle from rustling, and there cattle were in terrible shape, while Kodiaks young cattle were perfect for the market.

"The local ranchers had no choice but to give up the ranch's they owned, and Kodiak got control of all of them. A few have still managed to hang around, but the conditions for them are getting worse. His empire is now so big that he is moving into Mexico."

"Are you one of his hands?" Cownan asked.

"I was, but I quit, because there was something wrong about Kodiak, and Scalper I never liked. I quit while I could, because I'm a drifter, and I never stay in one place too long. But something was wrong with Kodiak's whole business, so I quit to get away before it got me killed, and I have never been glad to be free of an operation in my whole life."

"What was wrong with it?" Cownan asked.

"He was be . . ."

His sentenced was never finished, because at that second a volley of bullets hailed through the door and straight into the cowhand's body. He jerked with every bullet, and when the firing stopped, men rushed out of the saloon, some out of fear, and others with their guns in their hands.

Cownan checked the cowhand. He was dead, shot fourteen times all throughout the body. Many more shots had been fired, and broken glass and wood lay all over the saloon.

Pablo, who had moved away from the bar to get a book right before the bullets were fired, was standing in the corner, unharmed but shaken but the event. No one else had been hit in the shooting, but everyone was shocked.

Cownan was in disbelief. Whatever was wrong with Kodiaks Cattle Empire, it was big, because who in their right mind has a simple drifting cowhand shot to pieces because of a secret.

Staring down at the body, Cownan said, "Well you were right. The business you were in would get you killed, and I have a feeling you are not the last . . ."


	8. Chapter 7-Rangers on the Job

Chick Bowdrie pushed his Roan through the trees, and he had reason to rush. The Empty ranch was not too far ahead, and Bowdrie needed answers.

After the shootout with Boval and Lenard, Bowdrie found a message addressed to both of them from the man paying them to rustle and murder. The message had said that the next target was the Empty ranch, a powerful Texas ranch owned by the Talon family.

As soon as he read this message, he immediately contacted the Rangers. Although no longer a Ranger himself, Bowdrie had been the best during his time, and Rangers helped one and other. This matter also highly concerned the Rangers, so they quickly got on to the case.

Bowdrie had even spoken to McNelly about it himself.

"This true what your sayin Bowdrie? Does this really concern all of the Texas, New Mexico, and even Arizona territory?" McNelly had asked.

So Bowdrie showed him the letter and the facts on Boval and Lenard. McNelly's eyes shot open when he saw this and said, "By all means Bowdrie, I would have backed you up for anything but this is huge. The rangers got your back all the way, and we will find this killer."

"The Empty ranch appears to be next, so I'm goin for that" Bowdrie said.

"Take some of my boys with ya, you'll need them."

"No, No, I can do it by myself, there is just one man I want with me" Bowdrie responded.

"Who . . . As if I didn't know, its Rip Cocker ain't it?"

"Sure is, you know I've been on more missions with him than anyone else." Bowdrie answered.

So now he was headed to the Empty Ranch, with Rip Cocker beside him.

They drew up by a clump of trees at the top of a mesa, and Cocker asked, "How fur to the house?"

"Not much," Bowdrie said.

"You really think this is big enough to cover all the Texas-New Mexico territory?" Cocker asked.

"Yeah . . . sure as I've ever been. Boval and Lenard were for real when they killed those boys, so they must have had a deep secret. So, what could be that big of a secret that's worth killing for? A matter concerning all of the Texas-New Mexico territory, and maybe Arizona and Mexico!

They then drew up on the Empty Ranch, and Bowdrie was impressed with it. A humongous and marveling house stood on a great field, and cattle were roaming freely around it. There were a few horses in the Corral, and the ranch was sprawled with green grass, tall trees, and large water holes.

They made their way to the ranch house, and Bowdrie marveled at the house.

Built by Reed talon after his marriage to Emily Sackett, or Em, it was large and glamorous. Talon was a builder, just as all Talons were, and he spared no expenses on the house. They then registered a brand-the MT-short for Em Talon, and so the ranch came to be called the Empty-for MT.

Since then Reed Talon was murdered, but Em continued to live in the house, while their sons Barnabas and Milo were away. Barnabas was a builder who was often in France, but Milo was a cowhand with deadly gun skills.

They drew up to the house, and Bowdrie said, "Hello the house!"

A voice came back saying, "You're be'in listened. Speak your peace."

"I'm Chick Bowdrie mam-rancher who was a past Ranger, and the man next to me is Ranger Rip Cocker. We received a letter sayin that your ranch was to be targeted next by some rustling and murderous outlaws working for a much bigger force."

"Alright," The voice called back, "Never turned good men away from my house, especially with a meal as good as what Molly makes."

They stepped up to the porch, and the door was opened by an old woman, but there was a fiery and spirited look in her eyes. Now this was a woman you did not mess around with!

Behind them was a young man and his wife, and Bowdrie recognized the man as Milo Talon.

"Chick Bowdrie," Milo said, "Figured you'd stay with those Rangers forever!"

"Had to slow down sometime Talon. Can't be wild 'n reckless forever!"

"Don't I know it, this here's my wife Molly, and you've seen my Ma Em right here"

So they were invited in, and Bowdrie got right to the problem. He showed them the letter, and then explained the whole theory and problem at hand.

After explaining the problem, Em stood up and said, "I'll be durned if some no-bit outlaws 'git my Ranch. Milo, go get the boys and you tell 'em about it!"

Milo left to tell them, and Cocker went along with him. When they were gone, Em turned to Bowdrie and asked, "How did you and Milo ever get around to 'meetin?"

"Happened awhile back. I was on pursuit of a bank robber and murderer, Clint Williams, and I tracked him to town near the Pecos. Milo happened to be there with some troubles of his own. He had gotten into an argument with Williams, and at that time I stepped in. We both had shots at Williams, and he is still in jail at this time.

"It was after this that a man hunting Milo came in and I recognized him as a rustler and thief from the Ranger Bible. So we had another shootout, and Milo and me thanked each other for the help and split separate ways. We met up now and then on the trail"

"Milo could always fetch a gun, and it's gotten him 'inty more trouble than one man could imagine, but it has saved his life more than once", Em said.

As they talked of the threat to the ranch, Bowdrie could not help but stay alert. He had no idea what would happen to the ranch, but the letter had disturbed him. True, to pull off such an operation would be nearly impossible, but it could be done. Rustling and a bad market seemed to be everywhere, and as he talked to Em he learned that they were having similar troubles in this area, and he was worried to say the least.

Bowdrie studied it some more, then he explained to Milo and the Hands what he thought was happening.

"Stay the night Bowdrie," Milo said, "knowin you you're probably on to something, and it's a long ride to town anyway. There's plenty of bunks."

Miles and Miles away, back in Apache Creek, Rangers Moore and Billings were searching the town for clues to what Boval and Lenard had been doing in the past few weeks. They asked at saloons, store, hotels, ranches, and even had the word spread to the Apaches if they saw Boval or Lenard recently.

They pulled up nothing, and they were still trying to connect Boval and Lenard to the bank job, but had no success. After two weeks of finding nothing, they were ready to report to McNelly.

Moore had given up for the day and went to the saloon, but Billings seemed to have something on his mind, and he had left separately. Billings had been told by a cowhand that he had seen Boval and Lenard talking with a group of men, two he recognized as Mort and Charley Ruff, known criminals and the sons of Frank Ruff, a deadly outlaw that now was deceased. Both were connected to robberies and reports of rustling, and were known to the Rangers.

"Where was this at?" Billings had asked.

"At the Diamondback Saloon," The cowhand answered.

Billings knew of the Saloon. Located on the far edge of town, it was a hangout for bad men. Run by Hick Tappan, an old outlaw and gun hand, it was a common hangout for the men like the Ruff's.

"When was this?" He had asked.

"I reckon about a day ago." The man answered.

Billings then thanked the man. He had a lead, but not enough information. He continued to ask around, but tried not to give himself away to mush, for this was a big operation, or at least it was according to Bowdrie and McNelly. It was then that he got a tip from the hotel owner that both Ruff's had rented room's in the hotel but checked out just a few days earlier.

Billings asked the manager if he knew what they had been doing around, but he got the same answer. The Ruff's hung around at the Diamondback with a group of tough's.

Billing thanked him and was about to leave when an employee burst into the lobby, holding a crumpled letter in his hands.

"Found it in Ruff's room and it's hard to make out the writing." The employee said.

"May I see that letter?" Billings said.

The employee handed him the letter, and billings slowly read its contents.

_Frank & Charley Ruff_

_Your time in this town is done. I need both of you to move out. That rancher Chantry teamed up with one of the Sackett's, and Sackett's are always trouble. I have Queen and Monson after them, but I need you to leave with Lenard, Boval, and the others and go to the Empty ranch, run by the Talons. You can expect your monthly pay after relieving the Ranch. Be wary of Milo Talon, who is by the Ranch and is a deadly gun hand that will fight for the ranch. I also need both of you to stay clear of that Rancher Bowdrie. I am having Boval and Lenard leave him not only to get to the Empty, but to get away from Bowdrie, who is getting suspicious. I want the Empty to first be scanned, then I want you to get to know what were up against, and remember that we have men on the inside of the Ranch right now. Then we'll take the Ranch by force, say it was Indians, and then have Rollen forge the signature of Em Talon. Reveal this letter to NO ONE!_

Billings slowly put down the letter, his face stricken with disbelief. He had to tell Bowdrie, who was at the Empty. If The Ruff's had left a few days ago, then they may already be at The Empty.

Rushing out of the hotel, his raced toward the Saloon where Moore was. He did not catch the name of the Saloon as he went in, for he knew it only by sight. He marched into the saloon, spotted Moore, and without noting anyone else in the room, began talking.

"Moore!" He shouted, "It's true! We got a letter addressed to the Ruffs. They were meeting Boval and Lenard at the Diamondback. Bowdrie nailed it, there all headed to the Empty!"

"But this is the Diamondback saloon . . ." Moore started to say.

Billings face went white with horror as he realized that he had revealed all that information to everyone in the saloon . . . the Diamondback Saloon . . . where all of them had been meeting. He motioned Moore to leave with him and Moore started to rise when a shotgun blast roared behind him and ripped him into two.

Billings turned to see Tappan, the old outlaw Bartender of the Diamondback reloading the shotgun. His hand swung for his own gun as he let out a wild yell, but two men jumped up and held his arms while Tappan swung up the now loaded shotgun and gave Billings both barrels.

His lifeless body crumpled to the ground, and thudded on the dusty floor. All was quiet for a few minutes, and then Tappan spoke up.

"Childs, Mickey," He shouted, "Get those bodies out back. When the sheriffs shows up, we'll tell 'em that it was some drunk cowhand who beat both rangers to a draw. Then alert the ruff's of this immediately. I don't want this to affect my pay and the land I was promised."

Childs and Mickey nodded and dragged the bodies away.

Turning back toward the bar, Tappan found himself worried. He had been told by the Ruff's that the boss wanted no word of the plan to leak out, as some were already quite suspicious. This might interfere with the plans. He had been promised a healthy some of money and the deed to an impressive ranch on a small plot of land if he would harbor the Boss's crooks and act as a middleman for their communications.

For Tappan, it meant quitting his bar job and living out the rest of his life in luxury, and no matter what happened, he intended to get it.

Meanwhile, back at the Empty Ranch, Bowdrie had no idea what trouble was headed for him. He knew that the Ranch was probably the next target of the outlaws, but what he did not know would later return to haunt him, for things were already starting to take shape.

Up in Toadstool canyon, Darrel Queen had some 20 men ready to take out the ranch of Mike Bastian and Ben Curry, one of the main threats to the plan. Elsewhere, The Ruffs were headed towards the Empty, and some of the hands at the Ranch were acting as their spies. Together, they were going to wipe out some of the people who were main threats towards their plan-Chick Bowdrie, Em Talon, Milo Talon, Mike Bastian, Ben Curry, and Tom Chantry.

Worst of all, the two men who could have delivered all of this information to Bowdrie were dead, buried in two crude graves at the edge of Apache Creek.


	9. Chapter 8-Showdown Under the Storm

Darrel Queen quietly led his men through the tall trees as they came to the outskirts of the Ranch. He quickly spread his men out, surrounding the different angles of the Ranch. Then he sent Reddley out to scout for anyone still working around the ranch, for he thought the storm might make them all turn in.

Queen's plan was simple. The storm would bring thunder, and when it struck, his men would fire on the hands still outside of the ranch, so the shots would be masked by the cracks of thunder.

Then, when everyone on the outside was down, they would advance toward the house, moving right before the lightning struck. Then when close enough, they would fire on the ranch. Burning them out was not an option, due to the rain.

Reddley returned back in an instant, saying, "Most have gone inside, but there are a couple by the stable light'n a smoke."

"We'll take them out first, then move on to the ranch house." Queen said.

"Lock 'n load boy's," Monson said.

The rain had begun to fall, and Queen split up his men. The tall trees offered cover, and Queen used this to his advantage. When his men were in position, he whispered, "At the crack of thunder, shoot those boys by the stable"

The rain now was pouring down, and the men in the stable were finishing their smoke, but little did they know this was the last storm they would ever saw.

The three men in the stable just started to turn for the ranch house when a bolt of lightning and a blast of thunder shook the ranch. The outlaws opened fire, and the three men were dead on the ground, the sound of gun shots masked by the thunder.

Inside the ranch, Chantry suddenly shot up from his sitting position.

"Any of ya hear that?" Chantry asked.

"The thunder, of course I heer'd it," Rountree answered.

"No, no . . . I could have sworn I heard gunshots." Chantry said.

"Probably was nothing," Bastian said, "There ain't too many things out here besides us."

Back outside, Queen's men moved up closer to the ranch. A large outcropping of rocks and boulders faced the ranches Northeast side, and forty feet across from that was a shed. Queen split his men into to four groups. One would take cover behind the outcropping, another would use the shed, the third would be in the stable, and the fourth would stay back in the trees.

His men were in position, and he was ready. He would have five of his men move upon the house, when he and the rest would open fire on it. By distracting them from the outside, his men could sneak inside and finish the job.

Queen waited until he saw a silhouette move inside the ranch house. Lifting his rifle, he fired, and the bullet went through the glass and hit the man right in the head.

Inside the house came several screams and everyone hit the floor.

"Someone shootin at us!" Rountree yelled.

"Everybody stay down!" Curry roared.

Then Queen's men let loose, and the men all opened fire.

"We ain't safe here," Bastian shouted, "Everyone go to the back of the house! There's plenty of cover and ammunition back there!"

Slowly, they all crawled to the back of the house. Taking the thong of his pistol, Bastian handed the others rifles from a rack along the side wall. Outside the shooting kept coming, and there were shots from all over.

"We got to move fast, it seems like their all over the ranch!" Curry shouted.

"Split up-I'll go with Curry and my men to flank the rear of the house. Chantry, you and your boys cover us from the house and the nearby corral."

"Just who are they?" A hand asked.

"My guess is Queen, but we don't have time for guessing. Stick to cover, and if you see a man start shooting!" Bastian replied back.

Outside of the cabin Queen's men had moved close, and all were firing upon the house. Bastian, along with Curry and three Ranch hands, quietly left from the houses backside to find themselves facing three men, all with rifles aimed.

There was not time to think, just to draw. Curry's and Bastian's hands swung up with their guns, and fire spat from both sides. Curry's bullet nailed one in the head, while Bastian's bullet wacked another in the arm spinning him around and making him slip on the wet grass. The third man fired at one of the hands, Kruger Joby, and sent the bullet right through his chest.

As he was going down, one of the men sent a wild shot that whiffed by Bastian's face. Bastian and Curry both fired at the man, and he was dead.

Back inside the house, Chantry saw five men approaching the house, partially hidden in tall grass. Raising the rifle Bastian gave him, Chantry shot at the man on the far right. The bullet made his mark, and then bullets riddled all around Chantry.

The remaining four men then charged the house, and Cap and Baca opened up with shotguns, splining their bodies onto the wet grass.

Sackett then moved to the upstairs window where he took aim at the men below. Looking about, he saw that most of the attackers were stationed at different positions around the ranch.

"Tom," He yelled, "The attackers are all over the range, they'll try to take the ranch!"

Just then a Winchester boomed, and a bullet knicked Sackett in his arm. It did not hurt and it was not major, but it had drawn blood.

Below, Tom, Cap, and Baca spread out around the house. From the shed, Denny Dinsmore and Mike Monson led their men in a diagonal path to the ranch. Cutting loose with Winchesters, the bullets riddled the front of the ranch, destroying what little cover there was left. With no other option left, they all retreated from the house.

Meanwhile Sackett had also made his way out the house, and right into trouble. Queen had spotted him, and Tyrel recognized the men with him. Murray Black, and Trent Heater, both old members of the Hick Rigger's gang, and both deadly gunmen who were known to be connected to the Ben Curry gang. Queen he did not know, but he was not focused on him, only Black and Heater.

"Well! Well!-If it ain't that marshal Sackett!" Black said.

"I still ain't forgettin that time you arrested me in Mora for havin some drunken fun!" Heater said with a devilish smile.

"You're so called "Drunken Fun" almost led to the death of three men." Sackett said calmly.

"Well at least I won't have you in my way no more!" Heater said.

"When you are ready," Sackett said calmly.

"'When you're ready', he says-now that's a real gentlemen," Black said, and as he said it, he went for his gun.

Black and Heater were confident, but they underestimated Sackett's ability with guns. Heaters draw was faster-even faster than the draw of Sackett, but it was too fast and off course. The bullet flew through the air and went passed Sackett's head. Black had a slower draw, but he was overconfident, and while he aimed for Sackett's chest, his hand shook with the blast of the gun, causing it to only rip the clothing off of Sackett's side.

Sackett, on the other hand, was calm and cool, and made a fast but accurate draw, and his bullet hit its mark-Heater's chest. Quickly switching his gun to Black, who had let off another wild shot and was startled by seeing Heater fall, Sackett fired twice, both bullets taking Black in the stomach, causing him to crumple to the ground.

Sackett looked around for Queen, but he had disappeared in the shooting. Hearing a sudden shout, he turned to see Curry and Bastian surrounded by some seven men.

"Lower 'em Curry," One of the men said, "We've got you dead to rights!"

"We'll-Rice Mayer, I thought you ran out with the rest of the riff-raff when the gang dispersed. You won't make me put down this gun-you were never anything special, just some tinhorn with a gun!" Curry said loudly.

Mayer got angry at that, and quickly retaliated.

"Don't you say that Curry! You ain't my boss no more, and my new boss is better than your ever going to be! As for my gun skill, you can find out for yourself how good I am. So put em down or shoot!" He yelled.

Sackett studied the situation gravely. Curry, Bastian, and one other hand, Lem, against seven of the attackers. Sackett was a good amount of yards away, and he had left his rifle at the ranch house. He had two pistols, now both fully loaded, and he was a good shot with them even at this far of a range. He lifted his gun and was about to fire when something caught his eye.

It had been a quick flash-something that shined in the tall grass against the dark sky. It was the barrel of a rifle, particularly a Henry. It was not pointed at Sackett, but towards the group. Not knowing if it was the rifle of a friend or foe, Sackett carefully aimed his pistol at one of the attackers, held his breath, and fired.

The bullet sored through the air and took the men down. Then the mysterious rifle boomed and took down one of the attackers. At the moment of Sackett's shot, Curry fired at Meyer, while Bastian flipped his two guns at two others and cut loose. Lem put the finishing shot into the last attacker. Four of the seven were dead, the rest had escaped.

Curry and Bastian had turned to see Sackett coming down the draw towards them.

"Nice shootin' Sackett!" Curry said.

"Thanks . . . Let's keep moving-I think Chantry may need some help.

Indeed, Chantry needed some help. The men attacking him had come fast and quiet, and now he was facing all of them. Rountree had vanished, and Baca stood beside him, and not far away was McCoy, who had taken a bullet to his side, but was still standing and ready to fight.

Leading the men were Mike Monson and Denny Dismore-both looking to make a clean sweep of the ranch.

Everyone stood still for a moment with all their guns pointed, and Dismore stared at Chantry with fury rising through his body. This was the son of the man who had locked him up in prison-those seven years, years where the world forgot him, where his girl found another man, where his only family left deserted him.

Before he had been a young and happy kid who thought being an outlaw would be fun and exciting. When Borden Chantry said that he would spend life in prison for his raid with other Curry gang members, he had panicked and begged to be let free.

That never happened, and it took him seven years to break jail. The minute he was free he immediately wanted the two men who put him in jail-Chantry and Sackett. Hearing that Borden Chantry was dead and that Tyrel Sackett was one of the deadliest shot west of Kanas, he decided to put away his revenge to do other crimes.

Now he had a chance. In front of him was his chance for revenge, and he was eager to take it. Had he still been the happy and loose kid he was before his arresting, he would have never thought of killing any man, but prison had changed him, and it had made him one of the toughest men the west could fashion.

Now he stared at Chantry with no sympathy left in his body, and he was ready to destroy Chantry. His furry was strong, but it did not completely blind him. Facing him were three guns, and there may be more, and he was aware of that. He hesitated slightly, but there was no hesitation in Monson, who broke the silence by pulling the trigger.

Monson shot two quick shots, both aimed to take Baca, who shifted ever so slightly so the bullets missed his body by a hair. Chantry saw that Dismore wanted him and him alone, so he raised his gun and fired. There had been no time to reload earlier, so it was his last shot.

His bullet took Dismore in the shoulder, but it did not stop him. Dismore unloaded all six shots around Chantry. The hit on his shoulder however corrupted his aim, and most of his shots missed. One made its mark however, hitting Chantry near his stomach. Only the fact that Chantry was sideways when the bullet hit him saved his life. Instead of it going deep into his chest and getting stuck in a major organ, the bullet tore deep in to the skin horizontally on his chest, but did not hit anything major and then passed out of his body.

Both their guns empty, both men looked at each other, their faces cruel masks of blood and anger. Chantry felt funny, he noticed everything around him starting to blur. He tried to stand up straight, but he crumpled to the ground. He tried to raise himself up, but he grunted and fell to the ground.

"What? . . ." He stammered out.

He tried to say more, but everything was blacking out. The last thing he remembered was seeing Dismore staggering to the ground. Then he hit the grass, unconscious.

"Chantry!" McCoy screamed.

Chantry was out, and McCoy was mad. Staring down at his childhood friend, he was beyond reason. This was the boy who he had grown up with, the boy whose family had helped raise him after the death of his parents, and now he might be dead! There was no restraint in McCoy now. Raising his gun, he fired at Dinsmore and Monson.

Dinsmore, who was already on the ground from Chantry's shot, had just gotten up when the bullet hit him dead center in the stomach. Shouting in pain, he went down again, screaming to the sky. Monson, seeing Dinsmore go down, turned to McCoy and fired his rifle. The bullet went off course and hit the edge of McCoy's knee, but doing little damage.

McCoy turned to Monson, firing the last of his ammunition. The bullets missed, and Monson fired. The shot went wide right and struck the ranch house. Dismore started to get up, but fell and began to crawl towards the trees. McCoy, too distracted by Monson, did not see him crawling, nor did Baca, Monson, or any of the others.

Monson, who now began to worry, turned his head to see the outlaws retreating, and Queen had disappeared. Several of the attackers were dead, and Monson saw they were fighting a losing fight. He was mad, but there would be another time and place. Hesitating angrily, he turned toward where Dismore had been, but he was gone.

"Fallback!" Monson shouted.

"Say What? Now see here Monson . . ." Someone started to say.

"No but's! I don't know about you fellows, but I'm not takin' my chances in a losing fight. If you wanna die in this, then go ahead. I sure ain't!" Monson responded.

Slowly then, they all began to retreat, heading back for the woods. One of the ranch hands gave a victory scream, and the remaining hands fired on the attackers as they went back to the woods.

Curry, Bastian, and Sackett had come from around the hill towards the front of the ranch house. From the north came Rountree and a bunch of hands. The rest of the hands came from the south. When Sackett reached the front of the house, he saw Chantry, and his face went death white.

_"What Happened?"_

"That no-account Dinsmore got him, but Chantry took plenty of others with him." Baca said.

"He's been knocked out," Rountree said as he investigated the body.

"He's gonna be alright ain't he?" McCoy said, deeply worried.

"I think so," Rountree said, "More or less he passed out from blood loss."

"The attackers are gone, I'd say around thirteen are dead on both sides, maybe more or less." Curry said.

"Drusilla," Bastian said to his wife as she came out of hiding, "See what you can do for Chantry here. He'll need some time to rest."

"What are we standing here for-we could be chasing those guys through the forest right now!" A hand said.

"No," Curry answered, "It would be no good. This storms gonna' wipe out all the tracks, and there are still plenty of the attackers that can find cover along the way. They might even try again, so I recommend everyone get back to the house. We'll take care of Chantry here."

McCoy agreed, but there was now a deep anger rising inside of him. He had not found the body of Dinsmore, so he might still be alive, and McCoy was mad enough to shoot him on sight. Right now all he wanted to do was to hunt down those men and destroy them, but he had better sense. There would be another time.

A mile and a half away, his body soaked with rain, his body riddled with bullets, alone and abandoned, barley hanging on to life, Denny Dinsmore thought the same thing . . .


	10. Chapter 9-Unexpected Attack

Unaware of the events that had taken place in Arizona, Ben Cownan stared silently over his ranch. Something was going on here, that he knew, but he did not know what. It had been four days since the killing of the strange cowhand had taken place. There had been a small search but nothing was found. The killers, whoever they were, escaped.

Just what was going on? Who were the rustlers? And what did that man, Jasper Kodiak, have to do with it? What of the cowhand or the fact that he has been shot dead so he would be silenced? What did the cowhand know?

These thought shifted through his head as he stared through the ranch. He continued to study it when his thoughts were interrupted by the galloping of hooves. Looking up, he saw it was his son Bijah.

"Howdy Pa, where's ma at?" Bijah asked.

"I think she's in the kitchen son. How's that buckskin working for you?" Cownan asked.

"He a might frisky, but he's got some good speed to em'."

"Good, good . . . Son did you see anything unusual on the Ranch today? I mean, did you see any strange tracks, or any signs of rustling?" Cownan asked.

"It's still bothering you, ain't it pa. No I didn't . . . well, come to think of it, I actually saw the tracks of a unshod horse back at the point. I thought nothing of it-thought it might be some renegade Indian, but it may be something." Bijah Answered.

Cownan watched as his son headed back to the house and smiled. To say he was proud of his son was an understatement. He was every bit like himself, and he would make some woman a good husband one day. Abijah Cownan, that was his full name, named for his best friend Bijah Catlow, who he had one of the most interesting friendships with.

Abijah Catlow and Ben Cownan had been friends since they were kids. Several times they helped each other out, and several times they fought with each other. As they grew older they took different paths. Ben Became a U.S. Marshal, whereas Catlow's tought life turned him into an outlaw.

Catlow began pulling jobs all over the country, and he soon became a legend, and he gained many friends, partners, followers, and enemies. Several times he had broken jail, and then he proceeded to pull his biggest job in Mexico, and it was a doosey.

As he and his gang tried to steal an old Mexican treasure, they caught the attention of everyone. Cownan was ordered to arrest him and bring him back to the states. Cownan arrested Catlow once, but he broke prison and went to Mexico, where he soon became the target of the Mexican Army, Seri Indians, Mexican bandits, a vengeful killer, and Cownan himself.

After a long, brutal, life threatening chase, Cownan and Catlow fought a brutal battle and came out on top. Cownan arrested Catlow and his outlaws, saying he would defend them in court. Not surprisingly however, they all broke jail, and Catlow took off for Oregon to live a law abiding life. A letter from him to Cownan said they named their first son Ben, and likewise, named his first Abijah.

Now, thinking of his friend, Cownan realized it had been years since he had seen or heard from him. How was his old friend? Was he still in Oregon? Were they living well? Pondering these things, he went into the house, smelling the soothing smell of a good meal.

Still however, he was not fully satisfied. Something big was happening here, something more than just rustling. What was it? Was he connected? He had spent several years as a U.S. Marshal, and during that time he had made enemies. Was he a target? He did not think so. But still, it would not hurt to be careful.

His thoughts were interrupted by the call of his wife for supper, and he went to join his wife and son at the table. His thoughts of the mystery drifted away, and he enjoyed a wonderful dinner with his family. His worry's aside, Cownan forgot all his troubles, expecting a quiet and fine night, but what was to follow was sheer horror.

Sonora lay quiet, and several of the citizens had closed their doors, and those who were still up late were at one or two saloons. For some reason everyone seemed to turn in early that night, as if they had sensed the trouble to come.

The sun was just setting when some ten riders rode into the large town. The citizens probably passed them off as drifting cowhands, but nothing could be further from the truth. These were hired killers who had one mission-to eliminate a man named Ben Cownan. No one knew who they were, nor did the men know who their employer was. All they knew was that they had received over three hundred dollars up front, and more when the job was done.

Quietly they strolled down the street, trying to act casual. They knew their orders, and they were intent to follow them. They had no idea why this man was wanted dead, but followed what the letter said.

_"You have already been paid $300 up front, and will receive the rest when the job is done. If you want to know why this man needs to be killed, I'll simply say he knows too much. He must be silenced. I recommend you not ask questions, but if you must, direct them to the owner of the livery stable, as I have ties with him. I do not care of what happens to his possessions, only that he is dead. He knows too much, and be wary as was once a U.S. Marshal. Do as you are told and the reward will be great."_

The message was short and simple, and to those men the sum was great. They quietly rolled out of town, taking a trail that led directly to the Cownan ranch. For some reason, all were quiet, and no one felt like talking. They were men with a job, and they were going to see that through.

As they edged up the trail to the ranch, the sun had set, and now Darkness was befalling the country. At the ranch, Cownan prepared for bed, his wife and son already have fallen asleep. The hands were not at the ranch, for he had no hands at the moment. Many had come and gone, simply taking their pay and time and then going. His foreman had died in a stampede, and several of the loyal hands had returned to their families.

Now, as Cownan closed his eyes, no one could have told him that the ten mysterious men had ridden up to the ranch. No one would have told them how they dismounted and checked their guns. And no one could tell him about one lighting a match, and throwing it at the house.

Quickly the house caught fire, and at the smell of smoke Cownan awoke. He stood still for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on, and then he suddenly knew.

_Smoke! Fire! Someone was burning the house! Someone was trying to kill him!_

Leaping out of bed he grabbed his rifle and went for the door. He yelled at his wife, Rosita, and Abijah to get out of the house.

"Use the back for cover! Take the rifles and stay low! They might be out there waiting for you!" He shouted.

Now the house was an inferno of flames and smoke. Cownan broke out of the front door, rifle in hand, and found himself facing the rifles of several men. No one spoke, but all fired.

Cownan raised his rifle and fired, but the bullet hit nothing. He tried again, but his body was riddled with bullets, and slowly he felt the pain spread through his body. His knees then began to buckle, and he realized he was fighting a losing fight.

"Keep shooting!" One of the figures said.

Cownan stared deeply at the man facing him, trying to make out faces, but he could not. And then his body gave way, and he crumpled into the ground. He tried to fight it, but his body shut off and he lay motionless.

"Think he's dead?" One asked.

"What do you think? 'Course he's dead, ain't no man who can survive that!" Another said.

"I don't know man. There was a cowboy down Arizona way named Rip Cocker, and he took over ten shots to the body and survived. He took out that Clell Miller with him, and that was in the land fight with Utah Blain."

"I remember that," Another said, "Blain took over for Joe Neal and dealt with all of those trying to take the land. Glad I stayed out of it. That Blain is a fighter, and he reputed to be the best in the west. He tamed Alta and he won that fight against all of them-Rink Witter, Lud Fuller, Ben Otten, and the rest of 'em. He's a good man to leave alone."

"That don't matter! Cownan is dead and the house is gone!"

"I thought I head others in the house-might have been other family in their-what about 'em?" One said.

"He's right! I saw a women and a boy leaving the backside of the house!" Another commented.

"I don't care! I'm not getting paid to kill anyone else, let alone a woman. I got my man, and I'm getting my reward. Follow them if 'ya want to, but I'll have no part in it."

"They might recognize us," One said.

"In this light? Not a chance. Let's go!"

"I still don't like this. He may be dead, but I don't like the body laying their like that. Makes it look too suspicious." One said.

"Oh fine then! Patterson, you put the body on that pack horse in his stable. We'll put it in the woods, but I ain't got no time for burying!"

Together they rode off, leaving behind them the burned remains of a ranch, and carrying with them a man they thought dead. Not a mile off, Abijah and Rosita Cownan stared back at the remains, and then rushed back to the rubble. The hastily searched the remains, but found nothing.

Rosita began to cry, and Abijah desperately cried out for his father. When he received no answer, he went to comfort his mother, trying to fight back the tears in his own eyes.

When the sun rose, all of Sonora was talking. Ben Cownan, one of the top ranchers in the area, had had his house burned, and he himself was missing, and shots had been fired. Someone had commented on some strange faces in town that evening, but no one got a good look.

The sheriff found nothing, and the town was shocked by the event. The word traveled fast of what had happened, and quickly spread from Sonora country all the way up to the states.

It would take another two months before word of the event reached Abijah Catlow in Oregon.


	11. Chapter 10-Flight in the Night

Chick Bowdrie could not sleep. The ranch was quiet, but he knew better than anyone that they were coming. Who were they? That was a question Bowdrie still could not answer, but he knew they were bad men.

The letter has specifically mentioned the Talon ranch, which he was now staying at. He had informed the family, and had the Rangers investigating the case. But something was wrong. He had been at the Ranch for almost three days now, and he was itching to end the problem. He did not want to bother the Talons, but he had to find out what was going on.

He was still lying awake when something shook him. He turned to see Rip Cocker.

"Bit late ain't it Rip?" Bowdrie asked.

"Yeah, but I figured I'd wake you up. There's something you need to see. Be quiet and follow me."

Quietly, he got up and went with Cocker, knowing that by Rip's serious attitude that it must be important. Rip led him through the trees, until they reached an opening. Rip led him to a covered area, surrounded by shrub and brush, and Bowdrie was surprised to see Milo Talon crouching, his eyes staring at the open space between the trees below.

At the sound of footsteps, Milo turned to see him and Cocker approaching.

"What's going on Milo?" Bowdrie whispered in an extremely low voice.

"Got word that there was to be some sort of meetin' here tonight, and sure enough there's one, and some of my hands are a part of it."

They crouched low in the brush at the sound of horse's hooves. Then a whole passel of riders came into view, stopping at the opening.

"What was this meeting fur' Ruff?" one asked.

"I've gotten word that it's time to strike. Queen, Monson, and Dinsmore attacked the Curry ranch and failed. I don't want the same results!" A voice said.

Bowdrie knew the voice to be Charley Ruff, one of the men the letter had mentioned. Ruff was the deadly outlaw son of Frank Ruff, now deceased.

"Heard about it," another said, "Talk is that they were helped out by Chantry, and he had that Tyrel Sackett with him, you know, the Mora gunfighter."

"Who? Chantry?" Ruff exploded.

"Charley shut it! You'll alert someone!" That was Charley's brother Mort.

"It figures-foiled by a Chantry!" Charley muttered under his breath.

"Cool it," Mort said.

Charley muttered something, and then fell quiet. As he did, a new figure stepped to the center of the circle they had formed and took charge.

"Tomorrow, that's the day! I want everyone ready. I want it done quick and fast. As many of you know, we failed to get the legal document to take it easily, so will make for war! Dyerson, Rooney, Dutch, Longley, Hasley! All of you work for the ranch, so I want you to start out tomorrow as normal. When the sun sets, give the signal, and we'll take it all down. I want to keep the house intact if we can, but we can burn it out if need be."

"How are we gonna' pull it off? They had over twenty men up in the canyon, and they failed! And what of the ranger? Where there's one there's more!" Mort said.

"Men wise you should not worry. We got over forty five riders ready for this fight, not including our spies at the ranch. If we shut up that ranger quick, he can't get any info to anyone!"

"What of the town nearby? I heard they had a might snoopy marshal, and that's the last thing I want!" One of the riders said.

"That was the old Marshal. They got a new one and he's a friend of mind. He doesn't know what's going on, and he won't suspect nothing."

"It's settled," Charley said, "Tomorrow we attack!"

Quietly then the men began to leave, but the one who gave the orders stayed, talking to a dark figure. His voice was low, but Bowdrie strained his ears to hear it.

"Pool 'ol pack of fools. There's gonna be a fight here tomorrow, and plenty of them will go down."

"Are you sure this will work Len?" The dark figure asked.

"How could it fail? Were in perfect position to take it."

"You had better. The boss wants that ranch, and right now he's on the hot seat."

"So the rumors are true then? Is there really a betrayal going on?"

"Uh-huh, and it's going to bring trouble. Queen and Monson stand loyal, and I think the Ruffs do too. It's Freeman Dorset and Al Conway that I worry about. Those too are young and troublesome, and Burnside and Curtis stand with them. Roman Bolen is loyal for now, but it's Van Bokkelen that worries me. Nero Tatum is with Bolen, and the Dunn clan will stay with us." The figure said.

"What about Dinsmore?" Len asked.

"You never know with him. That man's half insane, and he'll do what he wants, so he must be watched."

Len signed, and looked at the sky.

"You think we can do it?" He asked.

"Take the Ranch? You sounded confident." The figure responded.

"No not that, I mean this whole thing. Does the boss really think he can rule the entire cattle empire in this area? This territory stretches into three, even four states, and that's not to mention Mexico. We've found men, but how long until this operation leaks out and we all find ourselves dead?"

"We'll get it done," The figure said.

"I hope so," Len said.

Together the men walked off, and Bowdrie stood silent with Milo and Cocker.

"What now?" Rip asked finally.

"We could take them on." Milo said hesitantly.

"They have over forty five men ready to attack us, and what do we have?" Bowdrie asked.

"Well, discounting those spies on our ranch, we have four hands who will stand, plus us, and whatever help we can muster." Milo said.

"We could send for some Rangers." Cocker suggested.

"They wouldn't get here on time." Bowdrie said.

"Then what do we do?" Milo asked.

Bowdrie was silent for a long time, then said, "Milo, would Em ever consider leaving the ranch?"

Milo signed deeply, then said, "She's do it screaming. Pa built that house and she would not give it up for the world. She might leave, but she'd rather fight."

"I don't think we can hold off that many of them, so I say we book it. Milo do you have a wagon?" Bowdrie asked.

"Yeah, but even if we can convince Em to leave, we'd never get everything ready in one night. Plus it would make the spies suspicious, and they could attack early."

"I think it's our only option, and I got a plan, but we have to convince Em to leave." Bowdrie said.

"Alright Bowdrie," Milo said hesitantly, "what's your plan?"

Quickly then, he laid out his plan to Cocker and Talon. Milo would round up the rest of the loyal hands, and together they would prepare a buckboard to leave. Molly and Em would be hidden in it, and when the spies asked what was happening, they would lie and say they were getting supplies in town.

Bowdrie and Cocker would stay at the ranch until they could escape without being seen, and then they would flee into the forest. They would take the trial to the next town, where the group would meet and head south, Bowdrie would send word to the rangers, and they would then find a way to retake the ranch.

"We wouldn't be able to get much into the buckboard." Milo said.

"I know. Just grab the important stuff and get away. We could try and take them on, but I think it's too risky."

"What if the spies get wind of our plan?" Cocker said.

"Try to fool 'em. If shooting ensures, then make sure that the rest of the outlaws don't find out. We have to get under here unnoticed."

Together the three men headed back to the ranch, all quiet and silent. They knew what was going to happen. They were practically giving the ranch to the outlaws, and this was far bigger then all of them. Em would not like it, as Reed Talon had spent his life working to build the beautiful ranch. Tonight, they would leave it behind, and soon they would have the outlaws after them.

When they came to the ranch they gathered Em, Molly, and the hands they could trust. Quietly they explained the situation and the plan. Em did not like it at all, refusing to leave her home. But Milo eventually convinced her, and the plan was set in action.

Quickly the hand packed the buckboard, filling it with food, a few personals, some cloths, and plenty of ammunition, and set out for the town. As they left, Bowdrie and Cocker noticed the spies getting suspicious, and watched as they walked over to them.

"Hey," one said, "Just what's going on here?"

"What are you so jumpy about friend? Milo sent of a few hands to get some supplies from town." Bowdrie said.

"That was a mighty packed wagon? What all was in their?" another said.

"I told em to load some rations and run an errand for me. There are some starving ranchers east of the Pecos. Rustlers robbed 'em and their living off of next to nothing. They are some old friends of ours, so we thought we'd send them some food to help."

"Where's Em? She's usually out and about at this time." The first one said.

"She and Molly are working on something in the house. They asked not to be disturbed for a while, and if Milo's leaving them alone then I'm ain't gonna bother them." Cocker said.

The hands were unconvinced, but seeing their argument was going nowhere, they simply walked away. Bowdrie and Cocker caught their eyes several times that morning, and every second they stayed they knew time was running out. They tries to slip away unnoticed, but the spies seemed to always be watching.

Then Bowdrie got an idea. Slipping away with Cocker, he palmed his six-shooter and marched into the middle of the forest by the ranch. When he was concealed by the trees, he fires point blank into the open air, knowing the sound would echo throughout the entire forest and reach the ranch.

Quietly they started their horses away. They were less than a mile away when they heard the spies show up. There was confusion among them, not knowing why the shot had been fires or where it came from. Still they pushed their horses, and Bowdrie noticed Cocker getting worried with every second.

"Bowdrie, were leaving behind plain tracks. They follow them and find us in no time."

Bowdrie reached into his bag, and took out some burlap bags.

"You ever see what burlap can do to a horses tracks Rip?" Bowdrie asked.

Rip was about to answer, then he gave a huge grin.

"Course I know. You tie 'em on the horses feet, and they leave behind no tracks. You can only use them for short periods of time though-soon the horse won't be able to walk in them."

"We aren't going far. Milo told me of an old trail only his family knows. Tie the sacks to the horse's feet. We'll circle a few times just to through them off further. Then we'll take the trail out here, and meet 'em in the town."

Quickly they strapped the burlap, and dusted off.

Two hours later, when The Ruffs rode down to the ranch with all their men, they found the place empty, except for the spies, who were mad clear through and had a story to tell.

"Tricked us they did," One said, "They loaded up a buckboard and said they were going to town. We had our suspicions, but we let them go. Bowdrie and that ranger then tricked us into going into the forest, and they dropped clean off the face of the earth!"

"What do you mean?" Len asked.

"I mean they tracks vanished. We followed the tracks until we reached a point, and then they just disappeared! Nothing was left."

Charley Ruff took all of this in, and stared bitterly at the ground. Why was nothing going right? Sure they had the ranch, but the people they wanted were gone, and now their operation might be exposed.

"Did they know about our meeting?" He said at last.

"I was gonna get to you on that," An outlaw said as he was running up to Ruff, "I searched the spot of our meeting last night and found tracks coming from a small grove where someone must have spied on our meeting. They were fresh tracks, made just last night."

Len took this all in gravely. Why was he in on this anyway? Bowdrie and Talon were gone, and with them they might find evidence to arrest and find him. He was risking his life here, and for what? Queen and Monson had failed, and now they had partially failed. They had the ranch, but with those men free they would now be under fire.

Len was a man who liked life and the thrill it brought, but he did not want to end up dead. There was betrayal and deceit going on in the operation, and the more the boss pushed for his prize the more enemies he made. Sure the boss was unsuspected now, but soon he would make enemies with the entire country, all to be the "King" of the cattle empire.

Why was he still here? Death awaited him, and he had no stomach to face the likes of Bowdrie or Talon with a gun. If one was to leave, the time was now. It was time to get out, get away, and be free. He could . . .

His thoughts were interrupted by the shouts of Charley Ruff.

"Alright boys, they got away, but we have the ranch. I have no idea where they are, but they must be found, so were splitting everyone up. I want eight men here on the ranch, and they rest of you to split up into parties and search the surrounding area.

"I want one group at the town, and another at that ridge five miles away. Another group can go and scout that ranch not too far from here, but be sure you don't get caught in the wrong ear. The rest of you scatter around this part of the country, and report if you find anything. Until we get word from the boss, were holding the ranch!"

Len stared at Charley Ruff, watching him give the order. Did Charley realize he was just a pawn? Did any of them realize? Sure the boss needed them now, but who's to say he'll just forget them later, or maybe have them killed to avoid connection. He had been told the reward would be great, but, looking at it now, he realized it was nothing a man could not achieve with a few honest years of good work, or a few lucky nights gambling in the saloons.

Whatever the case, he knew he was losing faith in the operation. It was too big to be pulled off, and many would die, just so one man could reap a huge prize. Several had died in Queen's raid, and he heard that Price, Porgin, Sorrel, and Mack had died. Bowdrie had killed Boval and Lenard, and Heater had been shot by a Sackett apparently. All those men gone, and how many more would be next? Who would be next? The Ruffs? Queen? Dinsmore? The Boss? Or . . . even him?


	12. Chapter 11-A Meeting of the Legends

Hide Remington knew how to run a saloon. For seven years he had operated the saloon in Ballistic City, and he could handle the tough crowd's that poured in from all over the country. During those seven years, not much surprised him, and even fewer things worried him. That was about to change.

Hide could not place it, but something felt different in Ballistic City today. He seemed to sense trouble in the air, and he was well aware that something was not right. As he pondered, he looked down the Street of Ballistic City, enjoying the sun rising over the mountain range. He stood for a moment, basking in the warm sunlight, thinking over his uneasiness but also enjoying the town.

Located right on the Colorado-New Mexico border, Ballistic City was a town born on a big cattle drive. Located near the Goodnight-Loving Trail, it never failed to attract some of the roughest cowhand the west had to offer. It all started when Texas Rancher Kristopher Jones planned a cattle drive to Denver, using what was then the early making of the Good-Night Loving Trail. On the way back from Denver, five cowboys stayed behind in the fertile land right on the border. They worked hard and built a few shacks and buildings, and within weeks, hands using the trail stopped by the town to enjoy some leisure after a long hard drive.

It was not long before the town began to attract the eyes of wealthy men. Seeing how it's positioning were perfect, they came from all over. Soon a hotel went up, then three saloons, then another hotel, then the courthouse, a school, two churches, a gambling house, a small stage, two banks, several corrals and a dance hall.

Those first five cowboys claimed the rights to the town, but their will was quickly tested. Several wealthy men bargained for control, and then there were the two feuding ranchers: Dan Goby and Boise Johnson. Both men wanted to own the town, and soon both hired armies to do their will. The five Cowboys, trying to keep peace in their town, sent word to Kristopher Jones back in Texas asking for assistance. They went ahead and declared they were the owners of the town, and one of them took the job as marshal.

For three days he tried to control the town, and he challenged the ranchers and the wealthy who were trying to get the town. Then he was shot dead on the fourth day. Competition among the wealthy rose, and bad blood was spilled all over the town. Eventually only Cod Langley was left standing. Langley had bought out, scattered, or killed the other wealthy men who were gambling for then town. The four remaining Cowboys sent word to Nile Corbin, one of the best known marshals in the area at that time. Within five days, another one of the cowboys was killed. He had been challenged to a duel with Skeeter Wild, one of Goby's hands, and lost.

When Corbin did arrive, he immediately went to deal with Langley. Harsh words ensued, and Langley went for his gun. It was fast, but not fast enough. Corbin beat him to it, and then Langley was dead. Langley's men responded by shooting Corbin to pieces, only to be jumped by Boise Johnson's men.

The town then proceeded to clear out, and a range war consumed the town. Eventually, both Johnson and Goby killed each other off, and their men scattered, but the damage was done. One of the cowboys had died in the range war, leaving only two of them left. Along with them remained the remnants of the burned town. One of the cowboys, a young, handsome Mexican, rode away to escape the troubles, and he was later reported to have been shot by outlaws. That left one cowboy and he alone with what remained of he and his friend's once great dream.

But then man did not give up. He went to rebuilding the town, and starting his own Saloon. He sent word down to Texas for help, and soon help arrived. The town was rebuilt, and soon people started to flow back in, as the trail was still in heavy use. It quickly repopulated, and he remained the only resident from the old town who lived in Ballistic City. And that man was Hide Remington.

Thinking back all over the whole situation now, he found himself depressed, and it only added to his uneasiness. Shaking off the bad feeling he had, he went to open his saloon. Slowly the town came to life, and the first thing he saw was a rider coming up the street. The man was alone, but he rode a fine mare horse, and his has was long and black. His face revealed scars form fights long past, and the tied down gun was something Hide quickly noticed.

The man was a stranger, but Hide could tell he was a tough, yet friendly man. When he came closer he got a good look at his face, and it was a face he thought he should know, but he did not. Shading his eyes from the sun, he strained to see as the stranger rode up to him.

"Howdy," The man said, "I just came fresh off the trail, and I was a'wondering if there was some place to get some good food around here."

Hide nodded, and replied, "The Station's Café, down at the corner over there has some of the best food you'll ever eat."

"Thanks," The man replied.

The stranger was about to ride on when hide stopped him.

"Say . . . you got a familiar look to you. Have I seen you somewhere before?"

The stranger smiled and said, "You might have, and you could say I kind of well-known man . . . or at least I was. I used to prefer it that way, but I take things more slow these days."

The stranger rode off, and Hide could only look on at him wondering. Who was he? And what was he doing here? And why did he want to be so low key?

Hours later, around midday, many of the usual's came to the saloon. Soon it was near filled up, and business was being good to Hide. But he continued to wonder over that stranger, and his uneasiness still was worrying him.

Perhaps it had been all the continuing trouble that had recently been surrounding the town. Three local Ranchers had recently had to sell their ranches, and rustling was becoming a heavy problem. Bo Lysol, a rich banker from the east, had come in and was rapidly buying land. Ranchers were not finding any good markets, and rustling was diminishing many of the proud ranchers around the town. What's more, there had been several outlaw raids in the area recently, many of whom were connected to the old Ben Curry gang.

In the town there had been several fights, and word of a range war was starting up all over. The rustling had caused Flanigan Temple and Schroder Point, the two most prominent ranchers in the area, to go to war. Sheriff Fritz kept peace in the town, but the violence did not seem to stop.

The whole matter had reached its climax only a few days prior. There had been a holdup at the bank, Temple had been killed, and the stores had been looted. Sheriff Fritz had been shot and was injured, and Lysol bought Temples land, demanding that Point hand over his as well.

Then the group came to town. They had said they were cowhands, but Hide knew by their look they were not. They came in working for Lysol, who now owned almost all the range around the town. He then bought out Point, and started buying up the town. With Fritz laid up from his injury, they had an election for a new one. Lysol and his men voted for Turner Gates, a rough woodsman who was said to have a violent past. It was easy to see many opposed the man, but when the day came he was elected.

Now Lysol practically owned the town, trouble seemed to be coming for him next. Yet, despite this, the town had been quiet and peaceful for the past few days, and nothing major had happened. So where did the strange rider fit in?

He was still pondering it when a man came up and ordered a beer. Hide looked up to serve the man when he stopped dead still. He knew the face, and it was a face that many a man from the days of the early west would know. He saw the curly hair, which at seemed to have a hint of a silver color, and stared into eyes that were friendly yet cool and collective. The man wore two tied down Colts, and looking outside to the hitching rail the man could see the horse he rode, and it was a beauty.

He was no longer young but was not old, and his tanned face cast a friendly grin as he asked Hide for his drink.

"How's for a beer?" The man asked.

Hide was still shocked the legend was standing in front of him. This was the man who was talked about everywhere! This was the man whose guns were as legendary as his name! He was perhaps the most famous cowhand in the whole west, he was . . .

Hide never got a chance to finish his thought, as it was interrupted by the smash of the batwing door being opened. Hide looked up, and saw trouble.

Turner Gates stood framed in the doorway, and with him were several others, all who were riders for Lysol. Hide smelled trouble, and fear ran through him, but he tried not to show it.

"Howdy boys, anything I can do for you?" He asked.

"You can leave," Gates snarled, "Lysol did some checking and found you have no bill of sale for this saloon. He has paid his money to have it bought."

"What?" Hide nearly screamed.

"You heard me Hide, move it or lose it!" gates shouted back.

"You know very well I have always owned this bar and have every right to do so. Lysol ain't got nothing on me!"

"Well, if you want it that way . . ." Turner started to say. Suddenly two men moved from behind him to grab Hide. Noticing the trick, Hide ducked below the bar to grab the sawed-off shotgun he kept under the counter. As he swung it up, he saw Turner had his gun on him, but he was not firing, and then Hide realized why.

The man with the curly hair had drawn his gun, and he had it pointed right at Turner. Seeing that gunfire might come at any second, men scooted to the sides of the walls, and tried to get out of the line of fire. Turner was outraged, and his anger flowed through his mouth.

"You take that gun off me stranger, have you any idea who I am?" Turner said it as if it was supposed to carry authority.

"Why no, I don't. What I do know here is that Hide Remington always owned this place and that the government has no right to take it away from him, Hide was one of the original cowboys to found Ballistic City, and anything he owns now he has rightfully owned for years."

Hide's mouth stood agape. How did this man know so much about him? How did this legend of the West know about his past-the very thing he had tried to hide form others. And while it greatly phased Hide, it didn't faze Turner at all.

"I don't care of this man's past, and he is on property that is owned by Mayor Lysol. He has been ordered to leave and I'll make him do it if I must."

"I ain't given her up!" Hide said coldly.

Turner was about to move, but a man quickly burst through the door before he could do anything.

"Hey, everybody! Y'all ain't gonna believe this! Utah Blaine is in town, he just rode up!"

The room fell silent, and somewhere, a glass bottle hit the floor and shattered. Everyone in the room knew Utah Blaine, and everyone knew he was one of the best men in the west. Blaine had tamed the town of Alta, and had been involved in Verde River Valley cattle war, emerging from it as one of the most powerful men in the state.

Blaine was known as a hard working nice guy, but people warned that no one should cross him, and the few who did had their graves scattered all over.

Hide then broke the silence, asking, "Wait, Rooster . . . why is Blaine coming here?"

"I heard he was making a drive, and planning to sell to that Rancher about five miles out from the city."

"Parsons? That rancher?" Turner said with rage.

"I do believe that's the one." Rooster responded.

Turner gave a solemn look, but eagerness showed in his eyes.

"There won't be nothing to sell too. Parson was found dead three days ago-Indian attack, such a shame." He said.

"Last time I checked," Hide said under his breath, "The Indians around here are peaceful, and they don't ride painted Gelding's or smoke the cigarettes that were found by his house after he was shot."

Turner turned around in shock. How had he seen the crime scene? Hadn't he and his team covered it up well? And what else did he know? Turner realized that Hide knew too much, and had to act fast.

"Enough of this business! Hide, I'll give you one last chance to hand it over to me. Lysol will cooperate, and we won't force you to leave."

Turner and his men still held their guns, and Hide had his shotgun while the man with the curly hair had his had his Colt in his hands.

"I shall not leave. Lysol is nothing but a cheap tinhorn that uses small men to steal from others. As for you Turner, you couldn't beat a child in a draw."

At that comment Turner snapped, having his very power challenged by a mere man. Turner raised his gun and pulled the trigger, and only madness followed.

Turner aimed for Hide, but the curly man put three shots into his body. Hide's shotgun got a few more, and the last one sprang for the exit, turning his gun as he left. He was about to fire when a bullet took him, seeming to come from nowhere.

The men in the saloon then gradually began to relax, and Hide looked over to see the man who shot the last of Turner's men. It was the long haired stranger who he had met in town earlier, and he was walking over. He stopped by the bar by the man with Curly hair, and sat down while Hide poured the drinks.

Several other men rolled up to the bar, and soon many began to crowd the saloon, wondering what the shooting had been about.

"Thanks, both of you. You helped save my bacon." Hide said.

"Of course," The man with the Curly hair said.

"That was some shootin'," One of the men at the bar said, "Where does one learn to shoot like that?"

The stranger with the long black hair spoke up then.

"When a man lives the long cowboy life here Hopalong lived, it just comes natural to him."

Somewhere another glass dropped and broke on the floor. Men stood in shock and awe, and a few cursed under their breath. Hide gave a sly smile, and the room stood completely still.

"You're . . . your . . .Hopalong Cassidy!" One of the men stammered out at last.

Hopalong gave a friendly smile.

"Yes, that would be my name. Most folks just call me Hoppy though!" He said cheerfully.

Hide took another look. The same silver tint hair, and the same green eyes and the same cowboy look. He was older, and it showed. He was no longer a young cowhand, but he was far from old. This was the man who they said could beat anything on earth, and it was probably true.

Hopalong then turned to the stranger and said, "Of course, you cannot credit me with all of the shooting. Abijah Catlow here, he did the work."

For the third time the room fell silent, and people could not believe what they were seeing. First Utah Blaine, then Cassidy, and now . . . _Abijah Catlow_? What kind of event was this? How had such legends gathered in this small town of Ballistic City?

The whole saloon was still for a few more seconds, and then someone laughed and said, "By golly, this here must be the 'meetin of the legends!"

Many laughed and then talk resumed. Hide refilled Catlow and Cassidy's glasses.

"You guys helped me save my saloon. That's counts for a lot in my book. If I can ever repay either of you, just ask. I'd be happy to help."

"It was nothing," Hopalong said, "Many a man owes a lot to Hide Remington. I was here in Ballistic city a few times in the old days, and, I reckon, you were too Catlow."

"Yes, took a lot of drives through the trail. Ballistic city was always a place to stop."

"I just wish it were over. Lysol won't take this sitting down. He'll get men after me for it."

"That he won't. I always figured I owed this place something, and I like your do things Remington. I'll help you, and a better man I'll never help."

Catlow gave a sign and a grin.

"I do have some business to get too, but I figure I can lend a hand for a day or two as well."

Then the doors swung open, and Utah Blaine came into the room.

"This must be the place," He said with a grin, "'Cause I heard that Hopalong Cassidy and Abijah Catlow were in town."

Both men gave a smile as Blaine made his way to the bar. Everyone then got quickly acquainted, and Blaine brought up the matter at hand.

"Hide, you know this place pretty well. Is it true that Parsons is dead?"

"I'm afraid so. Lysol and his men say it's was an Indian attack. I think otherwise."

"Yeah," Blaine said dryly, "He was a friend of mind, back from the war days. He had written me a letter asking if we could make a deal-he was low on cattle from rustling and from Lysol. I never trusted this Lysol fellow, and he said that I shouldn't in his letter.

"The thing was-he was experiencing several of the same problems I was. All throughout this area rustling is at an all-time high, and it seems that all of these men buying the land and taking the cattle are linked. I don't know how, but it seems that someone is out to rule the whole Southwestern United states through a massive cattle empire."

Cassidy then spoke up, and said, "I reckon he's right. I gotten word from old Bar 20 hands that several of all the old home ranches are being rustled heavily, and owners who have owned the land for generations are being pushed off. I came down this way to see for myself, and some of the other Bar 20 hands are coming as well. It seems like are troubles are linked."

"They might be," Hide said, turning his attention suddenly to Catlow, "Say . . . what's brought you down here Catlow? Last I heard you had just broken jail, and that you had come back from some big job in Mexico with that marshal Cownan after you."

Catlow chuckled, but then grew serious.

"Yes, I had just broken jail, but I promised an old friend, Cownan, that I would go clean from then on. I'm now a re-formed man, or, at least partially re-formed. I got fed up with all the running and fighting, so I settled down in Oregon until word came to me that Cownan had been ambushed, and that he was dead.

"I won't believe it until I see it. Cownan is a hard man to kill, and no body was found, so I'm banking that he's still alive. And if he ain't, well I'll just have to show those who done it to 'em how real the legend of Catlow is. I was told that Cownan had turned to ranching, and that he too was being heavily rustled, and that he had had a talk with someone who was shot just for something he knew. And, come to think of it . . . it does sound like are troubles are linked."

They all nodded, and Blaine got up.

"This is surely something to think about . . . I'll get to the bottom of what happened to Parsons, for that was not Indians that killed him. And there's a lot of suspicious activity surrounding Lysol."

"Same for me! It's time I take down that rotten man; after all he has done to this place." Hide responded.

Catlow signed again, but then gave a small grin, "Alright, like I said I got stuff to do, but I can spare some time. I'm in."

"Same for me" Hopalong said.

"Alright-It's settled. Tomorrow we'll find out the mystery behind Parson's death and retake Ballistic City from Lysol." Hide said.

The plan was set and the team ready. Hide wondered in amazement at what had occurred-a meeting of legends, and a team of legends. All of their troubles seemed to be linked, and the first step was to take down Lysol, who they believed had connections to the whole controversy. As they planned deep into the evening, Catlow excused himself to go out under the stars.

Indeed he was needed here, and this could help him find out why Cownan had been shot at. Was he really dead? Where was the body? Who were the attackers, and why? Why?

Pondering all of these things, Catlow looked up at the sky, and said quietly, "You had better be alive Ben, you had better be alive."

**_Authors Note_**: The character Hopalong Cassidy was originally created by Clarence E. Mulford around 1906. Mulford created Cassidy and several other characters for magazines, and eventually went on to write several books about Cassidy and the characters of the BAR 20 ranch. The books eventually evolved into movies, and Cassidy became a common character who was a fan favorite of children in the 1940's and 50's. Mulford had retired by this time, but many thought that with the success of the movies that more books should be made. Mulford declined, but did agree to let someone else right about Cassidy. Louis L'Amour was chosen as the man to continue the Cassidy novels. L'Amour would go one to write four Hopalong Cassidy novels under the Name Tex Burns (_The Rustlers of West Fork, The Trail to Seven_ _Pines, The Riders of High Rock,_ and _Troubled Shooter_). When questioned about whether he wrote the stories or not, L'Amour repeatedly denied that they were. There is now conformation that L'Amour did indeed write the books. More information on the whole matter can be found on the Louis L'Amour website, or in the afterword of any of the four novels. I take no credit in Cassidy or in any other of the Characters from both Mulford's and L'Amour's novels. This is just to make sure everything is clear. So, technically, I guess you could call this a Mulford and L'Amour Fanfiction.


	13. Chapter 12-Off the Tracks

As the train rumbled on through the night, Pinkerton Agent Wes Holden was deep in thought. For years now the Pinkerton's were always solving the crimes of the largest companies, but Wes could find no reason to see why cattle trouble and rustling could be linked to such a matter. It just did not make any sense to him. Were prices too high? Had rustling really become that big of a deal? And why had they sent him?

Holden had never been further west than Illinois, and more often than not his job required him to be in either Massachusetts or New York, and there were far better agents suited for the case. Pinkerton's had already been sent after Jesse James and the Reno Gang, and even Butch Cassidy. Pinkerton's were hired by several agencies and groups, yet his specialties were on the east coast, not the west.

In fact, Holden knew little about who he was working for. He had not even dealt with the man personally-only with his informants. Not that that had not happened before, but it aroused some suspicion from Holden. Still, the money was good, and he had not had a case in months.

He recalled the first time he met with one of the informants. It was in Baltimore, on a rainy Monday, and Holden was in his office. He was shuffling through some papers when the informant walked in.

"Agent Holden, of the Pinkertons?"

"That's me," Holden responded.

"I request your assistance in a case west. Along the Texas-New Mexico border, rustling, murder, robbery, and even counterfeit cases are at an all-time high. We have reason to believe that someone is having all the cattle rustled to destroy the market there. My boss believes that they are covering this up with many small crimes."

Holden signed, and replied, "Have you any evidence? Anything one could work with?"

"Yes, we have quite a lot. My boss was told that the Pinkerton's were good men to have on a case."

"Your boss was right," Holden commented, "But there are agents far better than me. I have no experience west. There are many others who would be a better choice for the job."

"Perhaps," The informant said, "But he requested you. You see, we are also looking for a man on this case. He's a man from the east-your specialty. We also know you have hunted men I the past, and that your very good at it. This man is dangerous, and we believe he is tied to the case."

Holden signed again, and replied, "Well, I am rather free right now. You say it's down In Texas?"

The informant nodded, "Yes, any my boss wants to cover the travel cost on the train to get there."

The whole train cost? That was unusual, Holden thought, but he was not about to pass up the opportunity. Holden asked if he could bring along a few other agents with him, and the informant agreed.

So now here he was, on a train making its first stop in Kansas, with Agents Reed Bell and Jud Hale with him. Reed Bell was thoughtful agent who was known for taking down the cunning female outlaw Miss Hollyrood, while Hale had helped in several cases west, including the capture of outlaw and gunman Monty Short. Holden knew they would both be good men to have along, and they knew this area better than he did.

For the next few hours, he tried to get some rest, but Holden couldn't shake the bad feeling that the case brought from his mind. Who was he hunting? He had little enough information on the man to begin with, but the Texas was an awfully big state. It would take quite some time to find him, but he would do it.

He shook off the bad feeling. It would do no good to be a pessimist. Getting up from his seat for a moment, he paced around the cabin. Bell and Hale were both sleeping, and so were the other passengers. It was past almost midnight, and the stop in Kansas would be coming up soon. The marshal would meet them in the morning, and they would move on the next day.

He had tried to sleep, but he had no luck. Seeing nothing better to do, he went over the little information on the case he had. He opened up the manila folder the informant had given to him, and began to look. First were several reports of Rustling along the Texas state line, and the Ben Curry gang was mentioned in several reports. While the reports did vary, they all seemed similar in the end.

Continuing on, he came upon a price sheet of recent buyouts in the area. Several of the buyouts were from supposedly rich buyers from the East, but Holden recognized none of the names. The amount of money paid was ridiculous, for Holden knew that most men in the East did not have that kind of money to spend on cattle. The amounts were so high that there was no way the locals could save their property. Old grants had been found, and Holden could sense crocked deals. If this was one big conspiracy, then they were certainly on the right track.

After studying the price sheet, he opened up a case file on the Ben Curry gang, and how they were somehow related to the crime. The gang had been formerly run by old outlaw Ben Curry, and his "empire" trailed from Canada to Mexico. For years the gang pulled several jobs all over the west, but Curry was a smart and cunning man. It was said he was against killing, and most outlaws would still refer to him as a good man.

Then trouble arose in the gang. Curry was supposedly shifting his power to someone else, and the whole gang scrambled to be the new head in command. Several fights broke out due to this, and the death toll was in the double digits. Rather that hand over the empire, Curry broke it apart and disappeared. A few tried to resurrect the gang, but the attempts were not successful. So the gang dispersed, but now more of the old members had been seen around the Texas border with New Mexico, and many thought they were up to trouble.

Putting the file down, he looked through a few other pieces of information, talking about recent death rates rising in the area, the number of banks held up, and mentioning some names. The Texas Rangers were involved, and so were the U.S. Marshals. Many prominent names in the west also seemed to be involved. A sheet of paper written by the informant's boss gave some theories, and also presented proof that several in both the east and the west believed in the theory.

Finally, there was some information on the man he was hunting. Holden read through the information slowly, making sure he got every detail. The man he was after was more or less just a shadow, because barley anyone knew anything.

What was known was that he had pulled several crimes in the east, with everything from robbery to insurance scam. Some believed he was a distant relative to the Bioli family, who practically owned the real-estate market in western Maryland. No one knew his exact name, but he had been known by several-Thomas Deal, Chat Herring, Dossel Fink, Mickey Duker, Lu Henderson, Arnold Deming, and several others. Most came to know him as Culver Jazz, the man who pulled one of the greatest scams the 1800's ever saw in the Midwest

Jazz had begun to loan land to immigrants and middle-class citizens in a portion of land in Southern Illinois, Kentucky, Indiana, and Missouri (He stayed out of the St. Louis Area). This land was not free, however, as it was owned by a few rich landlords who were off touring Europe and Asia for a few years. In that time, Jazz had promised to watch the land.

Instead of cultivating it for work, Jazz demanded those who he "sold" the land too to farm it. He had already charged a ridiculously high price for the land, and he gave them no accommodations. Nobody knew of Jazz's outlaw background, and he had come on a clean and nice man, so everyone believed him.

When the landowners returned from Europe, they came to see what they thought were "squatters" all over their land. Demanding an explanation, the terrified residents said they were offered this land by a friendly man named Jazz's. Infuriated, the owners searched for him, but he was long gone, not only making the score but also breaking the owner's vaults and stealing their money as well.

Jazz was gone, and no one could trace him. Holden and the Pinkertons knew all about him and they knew what to expect. So here he was, after Culver Jazz in a wild goose chase involving rustling, crime, a cattle empire, the Texas Rangers, the Pinkertons, and so much more.

Taking it all him, a thought crossed Holden's mind. Who all knew he was after Jazz? Jazz had friends, and a case this large would have to be kept secret, so there must be men making sure that it stayed so. That meant there would be men after him . . . and that they would now be targets. What if this information could ruin the whole scheme? That would mean that he would have to be careful of who he trusted, because if this operation was as big as predicted, then spies could be everywhere.

The thing to do now was to hang low and solve the puzzle piece by piece, making sure to leave nothing to chance. They had a job to do, and he planned to . . .

Holden's thought were soon interrupted by a large explosion, and he turned to see a huge wall of fire heading for the cabin.

"Everybody get . . .," Was all Holden was able to stammer out before the fire hit the outside of the cabin, engulfing it in flames. Then came more explosions, and Holden knew what kind of explosions . . . TNT.

"Reed! Hail!" Holden shouted, "We need to get the passengers off the train."

Both quickly nodded, looking for the door. The dynamite exploded again, sending the whole train off the tracks, and then Holden remembered . . . The stretch of land they were on was covered in hills, and at the moment they were crossing over one of the biggest, so that meant that if they went off the tracks the train would . . .

The cabin started to turn, and the train began to break apart, and then it began to roll. The whole cabin became a spinning inferno as the cabin tumbled down the large hill. Windows were smashed, and debris showered the interior. It lasted for only a few seconds, but to Holden, it seemed like hours. Finally the cabin hit the end of the hill, toppling over into a small creek in a barren spot amidst the prairie. The grass was not catching fire, and the creek was soaking away some of the flames, so Holden and the rest of the passengers slowly crawled out.

Much to the Agents relief, no one was severely injured from there cabin. As Holden stepped out, he heard a woman crying, a man coughing, and several shouts from the few other cars. Hale and Reed had desperately gone out to help the rest of the passengers escape their cabs. He strained to see, but it was all a blur to him, and he could only see vague shadows against the flames. He heard to the shouts and cries of the people around him, trying to make out what happened.

"Are we all safe?"

"Who's responsible?"

"No, no, no . . . he's not breathing"

"The conductors dead, and the engineer has a burned arm."

"Where's my wife?"

"How far to the town?"

For Holden, who was still half out of it, it was too much to take. He tried to walk, but he fell down face forward, starting to black out. As he began to faint he wondered, "What have I . . . what have I gotten into . . . what madness is this . . ."

And amidst the screams and confusion, Wes Holden blacked out.


	14. Chapter 13-A New Plan and a New Place

Tom Chantry awoke to the sun shining through a window, and slowly tried to stand up. Feeling a pain in his stomach however, he quickly laid back down. He then heard the humming of a woman, and looked to see one enter.

"On, Mr. Chantry, you're awake," She said.

"Yeah . . . say, your Bastian's wife right? Isn't it Drusilla?" he stammered out.

"Yeas it is Mr. Chantry, and we are glad to see you're alright."

"What happened . . . was I shot?"

"Yes, you took a bullet that cut horizontally across your chest; fortunately it did not hit anything major, so you should completely heal, though you will have a nasty scar on your chest for a while though."

Chantry chuckled, "Only a scar? I suppose it could have been worse. Is everyone else okay?"

Drusilla signed a little bit, and then responded, "It was some fight. Thirteen total are dead, and we've taken some injuries. Your friend McCoy got nicked in the knee, so he was in a crutch for a few days, buts he's doing better now. Sackett seems to have a few bruises, and Baca kind of went out for a bit, but everyone here is fine now."

"How long was I out?" Chantry questioned.

"Well . . . about four days,"

"Four days?" Chantry practically shouted as he sat up with a bolt of pain.

"Yes, you have lost a lot of blood, more than I have ever seen a man loose."

"Where is everyone right now?" Chantry asked.

"McCoy is out, I assume still looking for the attackers . . . it's all he's been doing since he recovered. Rountree, Sackett, and Baca are here, and Mike and Ben are off scouting range with a few friends." Drusilla responded.

They then proceeded to talk for a while about various things. Drusilla brought up her father, Ben Curry, and how she had come to meet and eventually marry Bastian. Chantry told her about his struggle with his father's killers and his wife Doris and their ranch. Eventually the talk faded, and Drusilla left to give Chantry more time to rest, seeing as he would probably be walking around by tomorrow.

Meanwhile, on the porch of the ranch house Tyrell Sackett, Cap Rountree, and Kim Baca were trying to figure out their next move.

"I don't think we should stay around here too much longer, I'm getting an itch to move on." Rountree commented.

Sackett nodded and replied, "Yeah, and I don't want to overstay the welcome we have had here. I say we take what information we can and chase that gang. Maybe we'll learn a thing or two along the way."

"I agree, but how do we pick up the trail? We followed their tracks the day after the attack, but they simply vanished. The rain wiped out any evidence we may have, and I'm sure their long out of this country by now." Baca said.

They all sat quiet contemplating, until they heard Bastian wife approach.

"Chantry's doing well. He should be mobile by tomorrow." She said.

"Good, maybe that will calm McCoy down some. He's been plum mad ever since he saw Chantry hurt, and he ain't been actin' the best lately." Rountree replied.

"You can't blame him," Baca stated, "Chantry was like a brother to him. He never knew his ma, and his pa died in the Joe Sackett murder case, and he was just a child when that happened. He's a man now, but he doesn't want to see Chantry die, especially after seeing his father die."

"Who knows though," Sackett said, "Maybe he'll find something."

They were then interrupted by the sound of horses hooves, and turner to see Bastian and Curry approaching, and with them, others. Rountree knew all of them-Doc Sawyer, Tex Garlin, Tubby Colley, and the man known as Roundy. (Rountree knew his real name, but like everyone else just called him Roundy). All were Former members of the Ben Curry gang, but were very light for outlaws, as they were all known as good, stable, and hard working men. Colley had been a foreman, and Doc had medical training, and Roundy was never known as a killer. Garlin was known as tough man-little known about him other than he was from Texas.

All four were members of the old gang, but were rather respected men in the west. Rountree knew they would stand with Curry; what's more they would go down fighting. There was something to be said about men who were loyal, and it would be good to have any of these men on your side in a fight.

Bastian explained how they hadn't found much, and that they were running out of options. The attack was days ago and something needed to be done. Sackett said as much, talking of how every day they tried to find them, the farther they got away.

"We have to do something soon. Let's go over what we now so far." Sackett said.

"Well, we know it has to do with the Ben Curry gang," Baca commented, "And that the attack and rustling all seem to be part of one plan. Whatever the reason, we know they have a lot of men. I know we have had trouble trying to figure out why, but a better question might be who?"

"What do you mean?" Colley asked.

"I mean, we know that Mike Monson and that Darrel Queen were some of the leaders of the attack. What do we know about Queen and Monson? If they were in charge of the attack he must have had a reason."

"Yeah-to wipe us out and get the range." Curry replied.

"That's not what I meant. I mean, how did Queen and Monson acquire those men? What do we know of Darrel Queen's past? We know some of Monson's, but not too much. I doubt their running this whole operation, but they play a major part in it. What I'm saying is, if we backtrack their history, then it might lead us to the cause."

"It's worth a short," Garlin commented with a shrug.

They were about to contemplate further when a loud yell was heard in the air.

"Bastian, Curry, I found something you might want to see!" One if the hands shouted as he ran over a small hill to the ranch house.

"What is it Peakens?" Curry shouted.

Peakens, out of breath, arrived at the ranch house out of breath with a letter inn his hands, which he handed to Curry.

"Found it in the saddle of one of the attacker's horses. We haven't had any time to check their stuff until today, so I came over quickly." He said.

Curry handed the note to Bastian, who proceeded to read it aloud.

_This attack cannot fail. Make sure you get Chantry and Sackett, as I fear they may catch on to the plan. Boval and Lenard are both moving out to the Empty, the Ranch of the Talons. They will help the Ruffs take it, as it location is key to controlling the empire. A.J. Tuttle still owns most of the land, and most people still don't know it. As I am writing this he is acquiring the land at an alarming rate. However, I advise you be on your toes. Chick Bowdrie, I fear, is catching on to the plan. I know how much you want him dead Queen, and you'll get the chance, but don't rush into it. The Texas rangers are now on the case, and we have received word that the Pinkerton's have been hired as well. I have sent men after Ben Cownan, and the Bar 20 Ranch will be the next big target. Should your attack prove, unsuccessful, which I hope won't be the case for your sake, then you should go to the hideout outside of Stanley and wait for word from Tuttle. He will pass the word to you. Show this to no one. Betrayal will not be tolerated and will result in, shall we say, "Harsh punishment". Do not fail. I have already sent over the monthly pay through Tuttle to come to you-$150 for you and Monson, and $75 for the others. Succeed and I will send more._

"Well," Baca said thoughtfully, "I think we found our lead."

Elsewhere, in the town of Stanley, Seven miles out of Toadstool canyon, Billy McCoy was searching for answers. He had recovered from his knee nicking very well, and was furious at those who had shot Chantry. For days it had been all he could think about. That Dinsmore-he was the one. He was the one who shot Tom. He would find him.

He had left the ranch early that morning, and rode out as the sun rose. No one was quite up then, and McCoy hadn't been talking much since the attack. He had already checked several other areas, and the town seemed like a likely place to find the attackers.

Stanley was not a large town, just a few saloons, a stable or two, a general store, and old hotel, and some shattered shacks. The population was decent, and it was known as an overall good place with some hard working people. Being one of the few towns close to the canyon, McCoy thought they might have come here.

As he tied his horse to a post outside of the saloon, he noticed that the bar was crowded with men, all talking excitedly about something.

"No, I ain't kidding you! Their saying that Catlow, Blaine and Cassidy are all together in Ballistic city-something about a murder and the marshal, Turner Gates," One said.

"I'm just surprised that Catlow's back. He vanished for some time. I was wondering why he popped back up again?" Another asked.

"Something about an old friend. Do you think it's true, that their working together on something?"

"Can't be sure, but there's been a lot of talk lately. From Northeastern Arizona to Sonora, there's been talk of rustling and murder. I even heard that the rangers are looking into the case." A third man commented.

As they continued to talk, McCoy made his way to the bar.

"Get something for 'ya?" The bartender asked.

"Information. I on the lookout for a few men." McCoy responded.

The bartender raised an eyebrow, and spoke in a lower voice, "What kind of men?"

"Outlaws. I'm Hunting Denny Dinsmore, Mike Monson, and Darrel Queen."

The room fell dead silent, and McCoy instantly realized he made a mistake. The outlaws may have friends here, and he still attracted attention.

The bartender had a worried and unpleasant look on his face as he replied, "Son, I know nothing of those men and hope I never do. Was I you, I would keep my mouth shut on such folks-they ain't ones to mess with."

McCoy gulped hard. There was no turning back now. He may have just run into enemies, or at least trouble. He had to stand tall now, as there was no way he was getting out of this easily.

"They are men I need to find. They are responsible for an attack on the ranch of Mike Bastian."

The room fell quiet at that, until a dark figure in the corner spoke up. McCoy had not noticed him until now, and a chill ran down his back as he heard the man speak.

"What makes you think that it was them fellows? I heard they wasn't even in this part of the country. You should just ride on boy, and save yourself any troubles. Queen's a man, I have heard, that doesn't like to be accused of things he didn't commit."

"We have proof it was them. And because of them some good men have died. I intend to see justice served for the all those men."

"If that's what you're after partner," the figure said in a dark voice, "Then you might as well be digging your own grave."

McCoy noticed how several men had left the saloon, and those who remained were pinned against the walls, mad at themselves for not seeing the tension and trouble that was building sooner.

"Why do you defend them? It seems you would be on their side." McCoy questioned.

"No son, I ain't. I just don't want to see a young man dead in his tracks-trust me boy, they will kill you, and if some of them get their hands on you, then you'll wish you were dead long ago. You should be moving kid; I know what Darrel Queen and Mike Monson are capable of.

"Monson is a poor leader-tough yes, but not the smartest. He's one of the fastest hands I have seen with a gun though, and he could cut you down in seconds. Queen is a whole 'nother story. Their isn't that much known on him, but he's a strange man, and he is worse than his brothers, who have done things no western man would do. Dinsmore is insane, and there isn't a chance of saving that man-he's pure crazy.

"Should you somehow get past them, then it'll only get worse. The Dunn Clan is in on the score, and Rocker Dunn is one of the most feared men in the west. Roman Bollen has the power, and he is a sheer brute who'll get what he pleases. Then there's Rebb-Johnny Rebb. They say he lost in a gun fight to Hopalong Cassidy, and that he's still after the man. I have no idea how he got caught up in this, but if you cross him you're sure to die, for he has a wicked cross draw.

"And, and this here ain't humanly possible, if should beat all of them, then you get the horns. There are men all over the country on this case. They even got an ally in the Capital! These men all over this fight all cashing in on the prize of a lifetime. They already in Sonora, and there's been shooting in the Apple Canyon in Texas. You can't stop them kid, so tell your friends. Get out now and stay out of the way-there is no mercy in any of these men, and they will get it."

"Get What? What is this about? How do you know? Tell me more!" McCoy demanded.

But the figure shook his head, and replied, "I have spoken too much son, and there coming for me too. That's why I told you what I did, 'cause their gonna kill me anyway. They always get the ones who break away. I thought I could outrun them, but I'm sure there get me soon. Stay out of this fight kid. Protect your land if you want to, but don't go after them. You will never figure out the enormity of this plan, and just like me, they'll get you. Run now kid-I have known men like you before. Men like you who are good, hardworking hands, who work their share and then settle down in the world. You don't want to end up dead in the dirt over this. It just isn't worth it."

"That may be the case for you," McCoy replied, "But I have to do this. Chantry was shot up by them, and I stand by my friends."

"Well, I tried, better keep your eyes open kid, because . . ." The figure started to say before the doors of the saloon busted open, and Mike Monson stood in the doorway. Behind him were at least five others.

"Pullman," Monson said loudly to the figure, "Queen said I should have made it quiet and pin it on someone else, but I'm 'gonna shut you up right now, and take the kid with you!"

As he spoke, Monson had already drawn his gun and brought it up firing. As the bullet left his gun the figure had just brought his gun up, but the shot struck his stomach, and the man sprawled over the table he sat at. Men behind Monson fired as well, aiming for McCoy.

McCoy's draw had been fast, nearly as fast as that of Monson and his gun fired just after Monson fired his. It was aimed at Monson, but the shift in Monson's position with his first shot caused it to miss. Fire now concentrated on McCoy, who dove for a bar bench for cover. Those who were still in the saloon put their hands in the air, to show they would not take part in the fighting. Monson continued his volley of shots, holstering his one gun and switching to another when it ran dry.

He and his men started to approach where McCoy was at when a roar of horse hooves was heard, and the shouts of men, men McCoy knew . . . Chantry, Sackett, and Bastian. McCoy recognized the voices as well, and darted for the back door. As he did Tyrell burst into the saloon firing, taking a man down in seconds. The others, like Monson made a break for the back door. As they exited, Baca, Bastian, and Curry stepped in behind Sackett, all with their guns ready. They began firing as the last of the men made it through the door.

"No use chasing after them," Baca said, "They'll be long gone in the woods by the time we find 'em. Besides, they seem to have friends in this town."

Sackett had gone over to help McCoy up, asking, "How are you holding up Billy? You okay?"

With a grunt and a sign, Billy replied "I'll be a little bruised, but I missed my chance."

"What do you mean?" Bastian asked.

"See that man over their?" He said pointing to the stranger sprawled on the table.

"Yeah" Rountree said dryly as he walked in.

"He was originally in all this mess. I tried to get him to talk, but he said he was a dead man, and sure enough, when Monson came in here he shot him dead. They must take being a whole part of this operation seriously.

"The problem is that with him dead I lost the trail."

"Not quite," Chantry said, hobbling though the door. At this McCoy let out a sign of relief knowing his good friend was okay.

"What do you mean Chantry?" He asked.

"Come back with us to the ranch. We found a note that might just give us a lead."

When they all made it back to the Ranch they settled down to discuss the situation. Chantry explained the letter, and what it meant for all of them.

"How did you guys know where to find me?" McCoy asked,

"We figured you were in town," Bastian said, "So when we made it to the town we checked around. A man stopped and said he had seen a young man ride in to town and head for the saloon, and he described you. He also described Monson, and when we saw him head for the saloon we came running."

"So . . . what happens now?" Colley asked.

"Well, I say our best bet is to head to the place the letter mentions, the Empty ranch. Maybe we can stop the attack there, or at least learn about it if it already happened. We cannot get much more by staying here, and I want to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible." Chantry said.

"The Empty ranch is over in Texas-so it will take us a few days." Baca said.

"I know the empty Ranch," Tyrell said, "it's owned by the Talons, some half-cousins of ours. They got the Sackett blood in them, so if they get attacked all of them will come running. Though I doubt they would be able to run old Em Talon out of that house."

"So you know the way Tyrell?" McCoy asked.

"Yes, I have never been their myself, but the trail has been told to me."

"Then it settled. I'm heading to the Ranch." Chantry said.

"That goes for me too, "Sackett said, "I said I would go with you, and I ain't 'gonna break that promise."

Baca, Rountree, and McCoy all nodded in agreement. While Drusilla turned to Bastian.

"You should go Mike," She said, "They will need your help."

Mike signed for a moment, and then asked, "Will you be alright here at the ranch? What if another attack is made?"

"I doubt it will happen, but if it does I can handle my own. We have plenty of loyal hands here to help as well, so I will be fine."

"Alright, "Bastian said grinning, "I guess I'm in too."

"Same for me!" Curry said.

"Are you sure old man?" Bastian asked questioningly

"Now don't you give me that," Curry said with a chuckle, "I was an outlaw for years, and while I said I was done with all that life, I could use one last go around with the wild side."

Bastian looked questioningly at Drusilla, but she responded, "I cannot stop him Mike. He's my father, and I know there is just no stopping him. It may be dangerous, but it's what he wants. Let him have it if he wants."

"What do you say Curry," Bastian asked, "You ready for one last go around."

Curry nodded, and Garlin, Sawyer, Colley, and Roundy all agreed to go along too.

Early the next morning, as the sun rose in the sky, a small party of riders headed out of toadstool canyon, heading east for the Texas country.


End file.
